Them Heavy People
by coeurdepirate
Summary: A pure tragedy of youth. Star-cross’d lovers, Edward and Bella, fight family, pain and death to be together. Romeo and Juliet-but darker and far more twisted. AU, AH, H/C, OOC
1. Get Out Of My House

**Summary:** A pure tragedy of youth. Star-cross'd lovers, Edward and Bella, fight family, pain and death to be together. Romeo and Juliet- but darker and more twisted.

**Author's Note:** This is my first fanfiction ever. I am doing this for fun and to stretch my writing muscles. It's an intended homage to Romeo and Juliet, though don't get ahead of yourself- you don't know what's coming. I enjoy any kind of feedback and will read every comment. I will respond to you, so any questions are encouraged. The title of my story, as well as the title of every chapter, belong to actual songs. These songs and artists will be listed in my profile. As always, no copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter 1: Get Out Of My House**

_Edward:_

I stared at my reflection with distaste and reproach, not the least bit impressed. I loosened the tie I had around my neck and squared my shoulders. The dark glass reflecting my image may as well have been laughing in my face. I had, after all, spent all day in avoidance of seeing myself like this. I turned quickly and headed for the door, ripping off the ridiculous tie as I went. The gloom of Seattle matched my mood well today, pathetic fallacy at its finest. A good day to be visiting, weather-wise, at the very least. I was pleased to see the dark, to see the night had come to put at an end to the day I'd had to endure. I quickened my pace, anxious to reach my car and complete the escape.

I slid in to the seat and closed my eyes, relishing the safety. I fumbled with the keys, hands still shaking, his words flashing through my head; provoking me, taunting me. Ah, Carlisle Cullen, seated atop his empire. The mogul, the CEO, the father. My father, in fact, and I was not to forget such a blessing, according to him. I had anticipated our meeting, though this had not made me any more prepared. I remained stunned, still sitting stiffly, my keys now grating uncomfortably in my clenched fist. They fell in to my lap when I heard a rapid knock against the tinted glass beside me. Newly alert, I grabbed them again and started the car. I rolled the window down and peered out curiously, almost grateful for the distraction.

I tilted my head to the side when I saw the girl standing there, waiting for an explanation. She blinked slowly, a flash of recognition in her eyes, and then quickly began to speak.

"You can't park here," she said.

I raised an eyebrow, taking my time to respond, though she didn't provide the chance.

"Customers only," she slowly turned her head toward the sign in front of my car and pointed.

I looked at the sign and then looked at her. She stood with her arms crossed, her stance squared, as though she was ready for a fight. I almost chuckled at the idea of her being in any kind of altercation, what with her size and all, it was fairly laughable. Was she waiting for me to leave? Alas, I could not resist.

"Oh," I nodded. I reached down in a painfully slow manner and turned off the ignition. "I'm a customer," I grinned innocently.

I saw her roll her eyes and take a calculating glance at my car before she turned and headed toward the building she, apparently, was adamantly protecting for customers, and customers only.

"What?" I called after her as I opened the door. "Too ostentatious?" I laughed then, as I had to agree, my car was rather pretentious. I did like to drive fast, and this was the one amenity I had accepted from my illustrious father without shame.

I walked casually behind her, watching her open the door to the modest bar and letting it close after her, despite my proximity. _Chivalry is dead_, I thought.

I stood at the entrance and surveyed what was in front of me. Your typical establishment, of course, small tables, low lit, the hum of every conversation in the room melded together. She was standing behind a counter, tying a small apron at her waist, smiling as she absently listened to what one of her customers was saying to her.

I took a seat at the bar, anticipating a drink more than ever. Now that I was here, I realised I certainly needed one, considering the day's events. I grimaced at the reminder and took a deep breath, attempting to soothe myself. When I looked up, I saw her shoulders rise and fall emphatically, as if she was taking soothing breaths of her own while she walked over to me. She lightly threw a paper coaster in front of me.

"What can I get for you?" She asked unenthusiastically. I wondered how many times she'd asked that in her life.

"Whatever you have on tap," I shrugged.

She nodded once and quickly filled a pint, placing it effortlessly in the middle of the coaster in front of me, but didn't let go of the glass. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, almost in a whisper.

I gawked at her, not hiding the confusion on my face. I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped when she turned her head in alert.

"Bella! When you get a second, sweetie, can we get another round?" A large man had called out to her. Seated with a group at one of the small tables near the bar, he waved his empty glass in the air. She smiled halfheartedly while he leered at her. She glanced back at me quickly with a blank expression and then turned, walking away.

My eyes did not follow her. They remained staring straight ahead, right at the place she had been standing. Bella? I searched my brain, looking for familiarity, trying to find some spark of recognition. Trying, but failing. I did not know who she was, and moreover, I did not know why she didn't seem to like me very much. Sure, some might recognise my full name, usually just by association, especially in Seattle. But my face? I no longer lived here. My picture hadn't popped up in the paper for years, much to the dismay of my father, as I was not turning out to be the prodigal son he was expecting. In fact, I was more of an embarrassment, my temper often getting me in to trouble, my habit of reckless fighting always leaving me battered and unbecoming. I had no business in the coverage of the Cullen empire growth, I was no one, and no one knew me; exactly the way I liked to keep it.

I watched her as she returned behind the bar, glasses clinking, bottles being opened quickly. She was careful not to look at me as she did her work. I heard more people loudly enter the bar one after the other, her eyes rapidly taking note of every movement as she seemingly knew what order to prepare before it was asked of her.

She was a blur as the night continued. Laughing, smiling, providing effortless small talk and expertly shying away from drunken ogling. And all the while, skillfully ignoring my existence, refilling my glass occasionally and then disappearing again. This didn't matter to me, I would wait it out. It was her fault, after all, for piquing my interest and leaving me with so many questions.

The room did slowly grow less hectic, and closing time finally approached. She was cleaning the counter diligently with a bar rag as her last customer wished her a good night, shooting me a strange glance as he walked out the door. I watched him leave, and when I heard the door click shut, perched on the stool I had never left, I turned to her.

Feeling my gaze on her, she finally spoke to me. "We're closed now," she said without looking up.

I ignored her obvious statement and walked toward her, leaning on the bar in front of her. "What did you mean before?" I asked purposefully.

She pursed her lips and rubbed the counter harder. I put my hand on top of hers, stopping the circular motion she was making in the same spot for far too long. Her head shot up and she yanked her hand away, as though I'd hurt her, like my touch had burned her. I took a step back and raised my hands.

"Sorry," I said.

She swallowed slowly and grabbed a bottle from under the counter. Walking around the bar, she took her apron off as she went. It sagged in her hands, full of the night's, I had to admit, well-earned gratuity. She sat on the small couch against the wall and placed the beer she had grabbed at her feet. She dropped the apron on the table in front of her, pulling out the wadded bills, smoothing them out with her hands. Ignoring me again, a useless thing to do, I decided.

I walked over and sat down beside her. She looked at me, surprised, as if she thought that walking away from me would've been the final say. She swiftly looked away as she rested her elbow on her knee and began biting the nail on her thumb.

I looked at my own hands, balled up into fists, giving away my frustration. Enough, now.

"Listen, um, it's Bella, right?" I knew it was. "Bella, I don't know what I did, or who you think I am, but I think you've made a mistake-"

"Seriously?" She cut me off abruptly.

My brows furrowed in thought, but before I could even begin to ask, we both turned to the sound of the door opening loudly, the look on her face telling me that she knew the man who walked in.

"Jacob." She said his name in exasperation so quietly, I wasn't sure if I was meant to hear it.

He looked at the both of us, a quizzical expression distorting his features. By the way he stumbled, I assumed alcohol was the reason. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed, wondering how long this would take, how much longer, exactly, I would have to wait.

He made his way over, much to my disappointment. He sat down on the arm of the couch and then slid down next to her haphazardly, practically pushing her on top of me. She straightened herself out, stiff and uncomfortable, but did not move away from me. I thought I almost felt her inch closer. I looked at her, but she was looking at him. I could only assume that shock was plastered all over my face. After all of this, after barely looking at me all night, she was all right with this? This was okay, being pressed up against me, but my merely touching her hand was an affront? I thought of getting up, leaving and never thinking about this again. But I didn't move. She looked almost as though she was scared, but I couldn't exactly tell. Of her discomfort I was sure, but fear, from her, after the way she'd been acting, did not seem likely. Her eyes bore into him, which suggested confidence. Regardless, I leaned slightly in her direction, instantly hoping she would know it was all right if she needed to sit a little closer. The moment I did it, my mind began to reel. What was I doing? Before I could decipher my own actions, she was speaking again.

"We're closed, Jacob."

"You didn't answer my calls," he slurred.

"My phone is off," she offered. Her tone was calm.

He took a long swig of the beer she had set down next to her feet. She looked at him with a blank expression. I could not detect concern, just betrayal.

"You said you were going to stop drinking so much," she said quietly. This time, with defeat.

"I told you not to worry about that," he said coldly. His face was calm as he looked at me again, though it seemed for the first time, as if truly noting my presence only now.

She suddenly looked very tired. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she watched us stare at each other. He moved closer toward her and threw his arm around her neck, pulling her even closer to his face. She winced but made no attempt to move. I clenched my jaw. He was touching her, and it was rude. He was taking her away from me, like he owned her. He rested his forehead against her ear and smiled impishly. He whispered something to her, and then, finally, she pulled away. His grip loosened, but he kept his arm resting on her shoulder as he casually continued to smile. She was closer to me again, but it didn't feel like enough then.

It was not my place, and I knew little of the situation to make such a decision, but at this point, I was looking for a fight. I could feel the heat rising in my chest, my temper flaring. My day had been too much. My night had been just as bad. I simply wanted one conversation I had today to go my way. It was almost an audible snap. I did not know if it was what she would have wanted, if she would have asked for it if she could have, if I was about to offend her. I did not care anymore.

I snaked my arm behind her and wrapped it around her waist. I felt her jump slightly. I pulled her as close to me as I could while I placed my free hand on her thigh nearest to him and pulled her closer still in my direction. Our eyes flickered past each other's and I saw the surprise there. But that was all I saw. Surprise. I did not see anger or disgust any longer. I looked directly at him and minutely cocked my head to the side, daring him to protest. I felt his arm slide off her shoulder and down her back, a clenched fist coming to rest in his lap. He glared at me, and it was my turn to assess him. He was taller than her, but, admittedly, that wasn't saying much. Despite the height difference I knew would leave me towering over him, he looked about my size. Fair fight.

I almost stopped myself in the realisation that I was actually considering fighting with him when I felt her body press against my side. She was holding her wrist loosely with one hand, and it was as though she was caving in on herself. I could feel her breathing quicken, and I wondered if I was also feeling her shake, but in that moment, Jacob stood. He roughly knocked over the bottle at her feet in his haste, the sound of breaking glass grabbing my attention. Calmly, I looked up at him. This was the last time of the evening he'd find me in such a position. He was breathing heavily, obviously agitated. I held her still as she continued to gaze down at her wrist.

I needed to think. My mind was racing uncontrollably, jumping from one thought to the next. Should I let go of her? Did she want me to? I found myself suddenly protective, strangely invested in her safety. I didn't mind the way she felt against my body, I didn't know why I was instinctively guarding her, and all the while, hoping she wanted it. Gladly, I would face him, but really, I just wanted to stay like this. Why? Maybe he would get angry enough to leave. I could spend the rest of the night comforting her, instead of wasting time on him. But who did I think I was, assuming she even wanted comfort? And from me, of all people. She seemed like she needed it, but ever mysterious, she could have just been taking advantage of the situation to rid herself of him. That was likely. But comfort, why did I want to be the source of comfort? Unable to follow my own thought process with ease, I was lost. With what I'd seen of her, helpless, like she was now, was not an adjective I imagined her capable of. For some reason, I cared. For an especially unknown reason, it was breaking my heart.

I never ended up making the decision for myself; they both made it for me. Coming back from wherever she was, I felt her palm slowly come to rest on top of the hand I still had on her leg. She let it linger there for a moment, and then her fingers curled around mine as she pulled it off of her. She stood, my arm slipping from its position on her waist, and stepped forward. Jacob inched toward her, so she raised a hand and placed it on his chest. I winced at the gesture. She should have been slapping him.

She spoke quietly. "Please. It's not what you think."

He scoffed. "You know you can't."

I chuckled involuntarily, as the idea of him telling her she couldn't do anything seemed preposterous to me. After the way she'd treated me, I didn't get that impression.

He slowly lunged forward then, toward me, but she squared her stance and now, had both hands on his chest, pushing against him. His hand shot up loosely around her neck as he used all of his force to push her back on to the couch. She fell almost lifelessly, shocked into silence. I immediately turned to her and placed a hand on either side of her body while I leaned in closer to her.

"Are you all right?" I asked hurriedly, because I knew what was coming. She closed her eyes and raised a hand to her neck. She nodded listlessly.

As I registered that she did, in fact, look okay, I let the rage wash over me. I could feel it dispersing itself throughout my body. I turned and stood, finding him there, erect and waiting. He looked smug. And that was enough, all of it was enough. Enough of these bewildering thoughts, these silly questions. I looked down at him and smiled.


	2. Born Under Punches

**Chapter 2: Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)**

_Edward:_

The force I put behind my fist caught him off-guard and sent him straight to the floor. He wiped off his lip as he struggled to get back on his feet. First blood was mine. I pictured my father's face and winced at the image. I shook my head. The action failed me, did not clear my mind like I had intended. It created a larger mess. Bella, Bella, the name passed through my head. As much as I wanted to turn around and take her away, I wasn't finished with him. I threw another punch, this time on the other side of his face, sending him flying down to her feet. I instantly regretted leaving him so close to her, and as thoughts of him touching her again whipped around in my head, I failed to see him grab the broken bottle that lay next to her.

Before I could react, he was lunging towards me. I felt the bottle grazing past my abdomen as I moved out of the way. The sting seemed minimal, and I knew it must be a superficial wound, but still, the instant loss of blood had me stumbling towards the wall to steady myself. I leaned all of my weight into the arm supporting me as I placed my free hand over the blood seeping through my torn shirt. I thought I heard her say something, but I was starting to feel dizzy, and through glazed eyes I could not see her where I left her.

Panic rang through me as I tried to find the strength to look for her. And where was he? Did he run? Would he not be coming back for more? I expected there would be more. I was starting to lose my train of thought. As the strength in my arm began to give out on me, I turned and leaned my back against the wall. Through blurred vision, I thought I saw her. I blinked so I could focus. I was right, she was coming towards me. I knew then, I could let go. I slid down the wall until I reached the floor. I felt her small hand covering mine, helping to hold in the blood. She was saying things to me, but I chose to focus on her eyes. I wanted to tell her that I was fine, that it was all going to be fine, I just needed a couple of stitches, this wasn't new to me. I couldn't find the words, so I hoped she was looking into my eyes with the same screaming force with which I was looking into hers.

"Edward?" She said my name in a tone that felt reprimanding, and I wondered why. But I could hear her now, I heard her say my name. My name. How did she know my name?

The thought sobered me. I held my wound tighter and pushed myself off the floor. She stumbled back, eyes wide. I almost glared at her, lips parted, a million questions wanting to push forward. I faltered, feeling light again. I turned my head down and staggered past her toward the door, toward my car, I just needed to make it to my car. Blood on the seats, I didn't care, the hospital wasn't far. I needed to go, I had to be away from there, away from her.

******

I lay in a hospital bed, watching as a doctor stitched me closed. I had gotten myself here faster than I thought, the mix of rage and confusion fueling me, keeping me alert. Now, I felt much better, everything more clear, so I just kept repeating that I was fine, over and over, hoping they would give up on the questions.

As he placed a bandage over the wound, he explained how to avoid infection and, eventually, told me I was free to go, eyeing me suspiciously, likely unimpressed by the story I had fabricated to explain why I was here. He had seen my name on the chart.

I sat up in the bed and hung my legs over the side, sliding towards the edge until my feet could rest on the floor, slightly dizzy, but in general, all right. I looked around the room for my shirt, wondering if the blood on it had dried by now. My mind forced me back to her. Bella. That name, that girl. It was good timing on her part walking in right at that moment, because I was ready.

She owed it to me now, she had to explain, there would be no more running. Her shirt was bloody, her hair disheveled, a bruise forming around her neck. Her face fell at the sight of me, and I wondered how bad I could possibly look to make her worry, considering the state she was in herself. She was holding a sweater in her hands, and she placed it next to me on the bed carefully as she came to stand before me.

She looked at me for a while. I kept my face expressionless, but I began to feel self-conscious and reached for the sweater beside me. "Is this for me?" I asked.

She nodded.

I slowly put it on, noticing blood already seeping through the bandage on my stomach. I winced at the movement, and out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw her do the same.

"That looks disgusting," she said flatly.

I smiled. I was completely calm now, entirely at ease. I was going to get my answers. And I had to agree, the area was swollen, bloody, and you could see some stitches poking through the bandage. But it all looked worse than it actually was. And I was going to tell her that.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" She asked, finally, with concern. It wasn't the right moment to be feeling smug, but I liked that. I stopped questioning why, sick of myself and my wonder.

"Actually, no, not really, I-"

Before I could finish, she slid in between my legs and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close to her. She buried her head in to my shoulder and I closed my mouth, no longer able to think of what I had been saying. I sat there for a moment, motionless, feeling her rise and fall against me. My arms lay tense at my sides, my hands frozen in place. Not only was I taken aback by the sudden gesture, but I was afraid to move. I was afraid to touch her now, this time, with no excuse; this time, with permission. Her warm hand moved up minutely as it came to rest on the back of my neck, molding firmly to the curve of my spine. When her finger brushed past my hair, every nerve was jolted into awareness. I felt an urgency then, an instant need to have her as close to my body as she'd allow. I slid my arms around her waist and held her tightly, feeling a sharp breath pass through her. I pulled her forward, further still, and pressed her into me as much as I could without hurting her, or myself. I could feel her warmth, every intake of breath she took as she moved against my body. I could feel her heart beating rapidly against my bare chest, her hand now gripping my sweater in a fist, trying to grab me tighter. I slid my hand up her back and rested it there, holding her firmly in place. She took one deep breath, and I felt her lips against my ear as she whispered, "Thank you." Her cheek rested against my face for a fleeting moment as I started to feel the intensity break, a space between our bodies now, a cold and unwelcome emptiness.

I felt her begin to pull away, her motions slow, every movement exaggerated, her hands dragging across my shoulders before they finally left my body. My arms stiffened, looser around her, though I left them resting on her hips as she moved away from me. I only let them fall back to my sides when she was entirely out of my reach. It took all I had to let her go. Had time really been moving that slowly, like motion trapped in water? Had it all really just been mere seconds? I was dazed, blindsided by my own inexplicable waves of emotion, wondering feverishly if she'd felt it, too. I wanted to feel anger towards her, I wanted to find the reaction I knew I would have, should have had. But I was done. Complete abandon. Why make sense of it now?

"Are you going to be fine?" She asked, moving fully back from the intimate position.

I nodded. "Are you?"

"We're not talking about me," she shifted her weight.

"I think we should be. I think you owe me that." It was a low blow, and I knew it. But she started it. I could still feel the heat from the places she'd been on my body, but I straightened my back and found my resolve. I felt like I was out of my place, but I had obviously stopped worrying about that much earlier in the evening. She was in the middle of something serious, whether I was involved or not. But she involved me with her cryptic questions, and she could have left it alone. Sure, it escalated rather dramatically, and I didn't know the whole story, but I was part of it. And I needed to know. I waited, at the ready to demand an explanation. I willed the tingling in my arms to subside.

"What were you thinking? Do you have any idea what-" She stopped herself, as if remembering something. She let out a long sigh. I decided then to take control of the conversation. I kept holding back, expecting it all to come pouring out, but all she seemed to be doing was holding back herself.

"Enough, Bella. Whether you believe me or not, I don't know what you think I've done. I don't know who you are, and you need to tell me now. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

As soon as it came out of my mouth, I regretted it. When I saw the guilt transform her face, I instantly hated myself. Sure, I could blame her for what happened, but I was the one throwing punches, I created the outcome.

She sighed again, seemingly accepting the guilt trip I laid out for her.

"Look, I appreciate everything you did tonight. Every part of it," she emphasized her final statement.

"What?" I looked up at her shyly, thinking more about the part where I so boldly took her in my arms without permission more than I should have been, and wondering, after my abrupt accusation, why she was grateful for anything at all.

She bit her lip and nodded, her turn to be shy. But then her face changed, and I no longer recognized the expression. I looked at her expectantly.

"Edward Cullen. Of course I know your name. And the name of the bar you walked in to? Did you not see the name?" She asked.

I tilted my head, my eyes questioning her.

"Swan's," she said. "The name of the bar is Swan's. As in Charlie Swan. And yes, my name is Bella- Isabella Swan," she looked at her feet.

My eyes widened as it all became clear. The Swans. It was a story I knew well, a story everyone knew. Charlie, my father's old business partner and friend. The company my father took so much pride in, what he took credit for creating from nothing, had originally been the idea of two young and ambitious friends, Charlie and Carlisle. My father was the stronger of the two, leading the venture to great and continued success. As I was taught to believe, Charlie Swan became corrupt, maddened with jealously and hate for Carlisle, unable to stand in his shadow. In what became an epic legal battle that was chronicled in every Seattle paper for years, my father took the company entirely away from Swan, leaving him with nothing, taking what was rightfully his. Our feuding families were constantly talked about, with the Swan name being dragged through the dirt at every opportunity, ruining any chance Charlie had to get back on his feet. Within the Cullen family, this was a fate that was thought to be well-deserved, a this-is-what-you-get mentality. At the time, I was too young to fully understand what had happened, but I was raised to know this history, believe it, and support it.

What opinion I actually had on the matter, in this moment, was not of consequence. I looked at Bella with a horrified expression. It was not because of her, because of her family, it was merely from shock and finally, understanding.

This did not translate, because she shook her head and swallowed hard, abruptly turning and walking out of the room.

I sat, dumbfounded, for what seemed like a long time. I zipped up the sweater, stood, winced, and then started after her, walking much faster than I should have been. I held my side as I walked, knowing I would regret this later.


	3. Slow Night So Long

**Chapter 3: Slow Night, So Long**

_Bella:_

The moment I knew I was out of sight, I broke into a slow but fervent jog, weaving the hallways, trying to remember which way I had come. My face felt hot, and I wondered if it would give me away if he saw me. Irrelevant. He wouldn't be following me, I wouldn't have let him. Not that he would have bothered, not after the look on his face. Regardless, I was intent on never letting him, or any other Cullen, see me this way; eyes brimming, the sting of every jab I'd ever felt for being a Swan tingling back to life.

I decided the white walls that surrounded me had been intentionally placed here just for this moment, to keep me going in circles, trapped in this sickeningly bright purgatory. As the thought began to fill me with horror, I caught sight of the doors I was searching for. At last, release. I hurried to my car, keys already in hand. If anyone _had_ been behind me, the last thing they'd be seeing would be the smoking skid-marks my tires had undoubtedly left etched on the pavement. I scoffed at myself as I gripped the wheel tightly, my palms already sore from the tension. There was no point now in adding embarrassment to my list of regrets. I'd made my exit, and that was well enough.

I drove mechanically, trees and buildings blurring past me. By the time I had managed to settle my nerves enough to loosen my vice-like grip on the steering wheel, I was home without knowing how I'd gotten there. I could barely remember the act of driving, let alone how fast I seemed to have reached here. I screeched in to the lot in front of the complex I lived in, finally relaxing in the realisation that I'd made it. I felt the slightest flash of relief as I stumbled out of my car, walking now, almost aimlessly to the stairs that meant home, the stairs that would lead me to the end of this numbing night. Just a few more steps. I climbed to my apartment slowly, dragging my feet like the weights that they were. I didn't run like I usually did, taking two steps at a time, anxious to be inside, closed in and safe. I couldn't even be bothered to entertain the fear now. I unlocked the door, slipping in and shutting it firmly behind me. I held it closed, my palm pressed against it, my other hand still gripping the knob, keys dangling off my thumb. I turned the three deadbolts, one by one, twisting them carefully, listening for the clicks that promised me they locked. I reached up and completed my ritual; the chain lock now in place, I let out a slow, staggered breath. I relaxed my hand, allowing my keys to drop to the floor, land where they may.

I stood in the dark and waited. Nothing but silence, completely alone. I began unbuttoning my shirt as I walked forward, relying on memory alone to map out my route through the blackness. I felt my shirt slip off my shoulders, floating to the floor beneath me. I unbuttoned my jeans, but it was too late; I'd already found my way to the bed, and instantly, sleep was all I craved. I crawled carefully on to the mattress, my neck aching with every movement, my throat sore from the blow. I left my body wherever it landed, curling into myself and shutting my eyes tightly, hoping sleep would come before it started. I placed a hand on my chest, thinking maybe the gesture would hold back whatever was trying to come out, hold it inside, keep it together. It only affirmed the sob I heard escape from my lungs as I felt it reverberate right through to my fingers. I let the tears fall then, entirely conceding. If I didn't fall asleep crying, I would wake up doing just that, and while I had no preference, at least this way, the exhaustion would come sooner, bringing the dark with it. Quiet, at least for a little.

I relished the inaugural seconds of waking that morning, the precious lack of lucidity leaving me, if only for a moment, unaware of who I was and what kind of day I had ahead of me. My aching body reminded me of, at least, one good thing: I didn't have to go in to work today. I tried to make a mental note to thank my friend, Alice, for agreeing to work on the weekends, saving me the trouble of leaving the bar closed, possibly for the first time ever. This day would have been the day to do it, had I needed to face that, too. Instead, I lay in bed, wondering how it would all play out.

Of course, there was Jacob to worry about. It was the first time I'd seen him since the original incident, that which only piled on to the drama of being a Swan. I took a habitual glance at my wrist, rolling it around, listening to the muffled cracking I was now used to hearing. It was all swept under the rug, wrote off as an accident. Distancing myself from him had been seen as an acceptable thing to do, and I mostly hid my fear, citing my armoured door as a mere precaution, the general paranoia expected from a young girl living on her own. I joined in on the consensus with ease, willing Jacob's actions to become what we all wanted them to be: a mistake. Last night's occurrence made lying to myself more difficult. It was something I would only admit to myself in a moment like this, that of private and unbound thoughts, for once, not censoring my own inner monologue.

Jacob, though omitting the details of his own actions, would undoubtedly tell Charlie. Of course he would. And then he would jump to his conclusions, just like Jake had. I wished they could have seen the expression that plagued... _his _face, the look that would easily settle the matter of my supposed betrayal. Whatever they thought I had been doing with a Cullen would have been abolished then, no concern as to whether or not the odious air between our families had dissipated. I wondered if Charlie would call, or if my recent affront would merit a personal visit. If I had to choose, I preferred the former, but the latter seemed more and more probable as I pictured Charlie's broken face imploring me, begging to know how I could cause such unbearable high treason. I laughed involuntarily, considering the predicament. To be sure, my father's life was brimming over with traitorism and shame, his name and reputation sullied and effectively destroyed. He was left with nothing, all this over lies and greed, and now, he was at a loss. I understood that, in fact, I was brought up to know exactly that, if nothing else; but it was not my battle. It never was, and I was exhausted by the weight of dragging it around, tired of having it follow me. It was inextricably tied to me and I didn't want it there. It attached to me just like Swan attached to Bella, and all I wanted to be was just _Bella_.

Beyond all that, it seemed, put simply, rather silly. I was accustomed now to carrying it around, not actually giving it much thought. Though, after some parts of last night, it didn't appear all that relevant after everything, after Edward. My stomach instantly filled with violent butterflies when I, with all guards down, allowed myself to think his name. I sat up stiffly, hoping the thoughts that my head wanted so badly to entertain would stay laying in the bed, taking my place. I didn't want to think of it, I didn't want to remember how I'd I given way to his protection; any protection, for the first time. Letting myself be saved, thereby admitting that I was only human, sometimes unable to bear all of it on my own. My shoulders sagged, heavy with defeat. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the memory of how I'd stupidly thrown myself at him, acting like some lusting teenage girl. I was well beyond all that, a teenage girl no longer, and I berated myself for what, even to him, probably seemed like said regression. I hadn't meant to act so foolishly, so unabashed and candid. I had been merely overcome with gratitude, overtaken by the intensity of the moment, the same mistaken intensity that poured out of my body as I clung to him. I ignored the raging images behind my eyes, shut out any ideas that told me, irrevocably so, that it was all much more than that, more than just a moment fueled by strong and misplaced emotion. I shook my head before my mind could wander, ripping off the blankets on top of me and letting the abrupt cold fully wake me.

I swung my legs off the side of the bed, staring down at my crumpled jeans and rolling my eyes. As I'd already wallowed sufficiently, seeing them on me only reminded me of everything I was ready to forget and push far down into the dark. Back to being fearless and unaffected, time to return to the stoic facade that preserved me well, as unharmed as an impenetrable wall of stone. I peeled off the jeans and left them in a ball on the floor, taking long strides to the bathroom, anticipating the hot shower I desperately needed and planning to come out refreshed and prepared for the rest of what lay ahead.

******

I dipped the tea bag in and out of the hot water, watching the colour swirling and spreading, clouding and staining the once clear liquid. Now clean and dry, I sat at my kitchen table with my phone placed next to me, just waiting. It was only a matter of time, now, the afternoon well on its way. I expected the call to come at any moment and once I had accepted that, all that there was left to do was this. While tiny spurts of fear occasionally escaped, I wasn't as terrified of another encounter with Jacob just yet, as I was more preoccupied with thoughts of Charlie and our imminent conversation.

After an infinitesimal span of staring at my cup of tea, I felt my phone vibrate roughly on the table top. I almost smiled, smug with my accurate account of Charlie's predictability. I sighed and grabbed the phone, not bothering to look at who was calling; I knew, of course I knew.

"Hello?" I asked warily.

"Hey, Bella!" Alice's voice was bright, as always, but that, of course, was not what surprised me.

"Oh, hi, Alice," I paused, letting my heart regain its composure. "What's going on?" I asked, trying to sound casual, hearing the buzz coming through the phone, reminding me that Alice was working for me today.

"Nothing, really. Everything's okay here, it hasn't picked up yet... " She trailed off for a moment and I waited, knowing she called for a reason. Alice was always intent on insisting she could handle things without me, needlessly promising never to call me when she felt I shouldn't need to be worrying about work.

"I'm really sorry to bother you on your day off, but it's just that, well, there's someone here to see you," she lowered her voice at the end, ominously.

"Charlie?" I asked, thinking how strange it was of him to choose Swan's as the location for our talk. Never mind how public it was, he knew I didn't work on the weekends. Though, knowing Charlie as I did, I figured he probably forgot.

"No," she said flatly.

The tone in her voice suggested the possibility of an unwelcome visitor. Alice, knowing me well, seemed to be preparing me. Jacob's face passed through my head and I cringed, not yet ready to deal or even cope with thoughts of him. The last time, he'd effectively disappeared, taking Charlie's advice, I imagined, and giving me time to suppress the terror. This one act had saved him, helped me remember the Jake I used to know and forced me to reserve a tiny space inside of me for him; all I could provide, really. I sighed.

"What does he want, Alice?" I asked.

Alice scoffed. "You tell me, Bella. I've never seen him here before," she said. True enough, during the time Jacob used to frequent Swan's, it was always during my shift.

"I... saw him last night. I'm sorry he showed up again. If I saw it coming I would have warned you, but I just didn't think I'd have to deal with it for a while," I said it apologetically, annoyed that my baggage was now Alice's problem.

I continued, now embarrassed. "If you don't mind too much, could you just tell him to go? You don't have to explain anything to him, he'll just leave, I think. Really, I'm so sorry, Alice."

"I can, that's fine, it's fine, Bella. It's just so... weird, is all," her words were distracted and uncomfortable.

Ah, the Swan curse, alienating friends since the dawn of time. "Thanks, really, you have no idea. I just, I mean, he won't come around again. I'll even call him and tell him not to," I offered. I felt terrible about and humiliated by my own drama getting dumped on everyone I knew.

"You have his number?" The question shot out of her abruptly.

I felt ashamed. I knew I should have altogether erased Jacob after what he'd done, but at the time, I couldn't completely let him go, and a lot of people couldn't understand that. I, for one, didn't even understand it. I wasn't one for enduring that kind of thing, but somewhere inside of me, I knew that it wasn't his intent. After last night, however, every part of me already knew I was done, but again, that realisation would be dealt with later. I let out a sharp breath, agitated now.

"I know your thoughts on Jacob, Alice. I will gladly let you yell at me, but can we do this later? I'm waiting for Charlie to call me. Just tell him to leave and spend the rest of the day planning your lecture. I'll pencil you in, all right?" I hoped my attempt at joking around with her would stave her off for the time being.

"No, no!" Now she was the one who sounded agitated, her annoyance entirely apparent.

"What?" I said firmly, trying to speed things up.

"Jacob's not here, Bella, though we are going to talk about that later." My eyebrows furrowed together and I twisted my face in confusion, forgetting she couldn't see my reaction.

She quickly continued. "It's..." Alice trailed off, a loud shuffling coming through the phone. I almost didn't hear her speaking again, her voice now a low whisper. "It's… Edward Cullen."


	4. The Cure

**Chapter 4: The Cure**

_Bella:_

"Bella?" I heard Alice's distant voice as I bent to pick the phone up off the floor. Stunned, to say the least.

"Yes, I'm here, I'm here," I stammered.

"What happened?" Alice asked.

"I, uh, I dropped my phone."

"How cheesy-movie-moment of you, Bella," I heard her snort.

I ignored her, urgency taking over. "Alice, Alice, what... I mean, is he-can he hear you right now? Is he still there?" I didn't know where my line of questioning was going and, I imagined, neither did she.

"He's still here. I think he's looking at me, but I don't think he knows that I know. Who he is, I mean. And no, he can't hear me," she sighed.

"What did he say-wait, does he know you're talking to me? What does he want?" I wasn't sure if I was making sense. Words seemed to be falling out of my mouth at an increasing speed, and it felt like only luck that they were, somewhat, in the right order.

"I don't know what he wants. He just walked in and asked for you. When I said you weren't working, he asked if you were all right. That's when I decided to call you, I was worried. But before I did, he asked me when you'd be in next. I figured I'd ask you, before I said anything, of course. I told him I'd give you a call, and he hasn't moved since. That's it, I swear, every word. Bella, please, what's going on?" She asked.

I knew I could count on Alice to provide, in detail, the entire exchange, verbatim. I pictured us together, back in high school, her chronicling every movement of every boy she had her sights on, eagerly spilling every word into my lap. Why was the word _teenager_ ringing in my ears again? _This had better not become a recurring theme_, I threatened, only to myself.

"I promise I will tell you everything, close up early and come over, I don't care. But Alice, please, I need to you tell him that you don't know when I'll be in next and that I sound completely fine. Oh, and... can you take my shift tomorrow?" My voice trailed off, almost squeaking, the last favour asked being too much, something I was well aware of.

"I have class on Mondays, I-"

"I'll go for you. I'll take notes," I rudely interrupted. I was pushing it and I knew it.

I heard a very long and exaggerated sigh on the other end of the phone. If she already hadn't done so, Alice was surely growing tired of my theatrics, and so was I.

I heard her breathe again, this time less annoyed. Instead, I heard defeat.

"Fine, Bella. But I_ am_ going to close down for tonight, and I _am _coming over." I knew our conversation had ended then, the finality of her tone prompting me to shut my mouth. I still clung to the phone, knuckles white, biting my lip fiercely. I faintly heard Alice say, "Bella doesn't know when she'll be-" and the line cut out.

I lowered my hand to the table, still clutching my phone. My tea was cold, and what a strange thing to notice, I thought. I stared ahead blankly, wondering when I took my last breath. My shock came in waves, reason after reason. I tried to think of any purpose behind his actions, why he would appear under the guise of inquiring about my well-being, as if it was of any import to him now. And what could he possibly want from me, needing to know when he could see me next? Was that even why he had asked?

I felt my hand slowly releasing its grip, my muscles relaxing, the moment that took me so swiftly by surprise finally subsiding. I breathed in deeply, allowing clarity and logic to regain their usual control, jockeying for positions in my thought process. I imagined the air I had sucked in passing through me, clearing paths as it went. As things aligned, I tried again. What did he want? Perhaps, after realising who I was, he needed to make sure his hospital visit didn't manage to get back to his father. I'd read enough newspaper articles in my time to know his history, I'd seen the photos, one of the reasons I recognised him so instantly last night. He'd changed, of course, but I wouldn't soon forget the face of any Cullen. But why wouldn't it cross his mind that I, too, would want this kept between us? Not as lucky as he, I had Charlie to manage, Charlie, who surely knew by now. Charlie. Why hadn't I spoken to Charlie yet? I looked at the clock, taken aback by the hands that suggested the day was almost becoming the evening. I considered calling him, a preemptive strike, perhaps. I weighed the time, my exhaustion despite, quite literally, sitting around all day, and what I knew I would feel like after speaking with him.

Charlie could wait, I decided. If he wasn't banging down my door by now, I was in the clear, at least for one more night. Maybe he was too fuming to speak to me, maybe he was plotting ways to kill me and make it look like an accident, maybe, well, maybe he didn't know. Had Jacob not...? No, no Jacob right now. I shook my head.

I stood, my legs grateful for the stretch. I hastily dumped my cold tea into the sink, twisting the knob on the stove, letting the kettle reheat. I would try tea again. I would wait for Alice and I would try again.

******

"That's all I can think of," I said to Alice, curled up on my couch next to her, shifting my position. My body was stiff, tired of being crumpled in the same position for such an extended period of time. We'd been talking for hours, every single detail being dragged out of me. She needed a play-by-play retelling, and at this point, I owed it to her. I had promised, after all.

I'd sifted through every sordid account with her, finally getting to where we were now, trying to figure out why she'd received the unexpected visit this afternoon. Since she'd called, I had been unable to come up with anything new, so I presented her with what little reasoning I'd come up with, secretly praying she'd be a little more creative than I had been.

Alas, Alice was even more in the dark than I was, not having experienced it first-hand, she was at a loss. All she could do was affirm the reasoning behind my logic, in a way, helping me accept that there really was no sense to it. I felt better knowing that I wasn't entirely crazy, that my over-analyzing wasn't a symptom of something else altogether, some other suppressed feeling I didn't want to acknowledge.

"True, he could just want to make sure it doesn't get out. Still, Bella, this is all too much. The fact that he even came to the bar again after that, I don't even know what to say," she said.

"I know, and neither do I. Regardless, I won't be seeing him again. For whatever reason, Charlie doesn't seem to be aware. We both know he'd have been here by now."

Alice nodded agreeably, used to the Swans by this point, every single one of us.

I continued. "If Jacob didn't tell him, I-well, I guess I'm thankful for that part. One way or the other, I'm never finding out," I finished off.

"I'm so glad, really. You need to put it all behind you and things can just go back to normal," she said proudly.

I let out a long sigh of what felt like, finally, relief.

After speaking with Alice, my beloved Alice, who knew everything I had been through, I was able to face what I'd been putting off all day: letting go. I knew I would, I knew that I would do everything in my power to make sure I never saw Jacob again, I just needed her to hear me say it. After his first offense, she supported my decision to at least consider not cutting him entirely out of my life after enough time passed. She knew, that under the circumstances, I'd had a point. But not this time. Never a second time.

I felt a mixture of relief and fear, able to say it all out loud, but validating it in the process. It really happened now, I had to acknowledge all of it. I did my best to make light of the situation, laughing when Alice threatened Jacob with death, raising her tiny, ineffectual fist in the air. I tried to remain only casually interested when she described the way Edward had looked, detailing his facial expressions for me, reiterating what she had told me on the phone.

"He was really polite, you know? I don't know what I expected, but I didn't expect that, I guess. And he just sat there, waiting for me to get off the phone. When I told him I didn't know when you'd be working, he actually looked sad! Well, first suspicious, then sad. I thought he was nice," she said, quietly.

I fidgeted with my sleeve, intent on remaining opinion-free on anything that had to do with him. I did my best to sound unbiased.

"I'm sure he's a stand-up guy," I tried.

Alice gawked at me skeptically. "Right, that's not an understatement at all, considering he saved your life and everything."

I scoffed. "Oh, please don't exaggerate. Your sarcasm is not appreciated. And besides, I said thank you," I smugly stated, matter-of-factly.

Alice snorted. "Whatever, Bella."

I let a fake smile spread over my face and she rolled her eyes.

"When are you going back to work, then? You can't hide out forever, and I certainly can't keep skipping classes to cover for you," she looked at me expectantly.

"I'll do your homework for you?" I peeked at Alice from the corner of my eye, smirking.

"Tempting, but no. You should come back to school, though. We miss you there, Bella, even the professors," she offered.

I shrugged, changing the subject. "I'll be back at work on Tuesday. I'm sure he'll have lost interest by then."

"And if not?" She asked.

Well? What if he didn't? I had to admit, I didn't have much of a plan going. I just wanted this all to be over, to go back to whatever small semblance of normality I had left. I set my jaw, determined.

"Well then, I'll just have to find out what he wants and pray that Charlie never, ever finds out. If he does, I will never hear the end of it. It would crush him, and there's been enough of that going around," I said.

Alice bobbed her head, staring aimlessly. She turned to me, almost squinting, searching me with her eyes.

"It's all going to turn out okay in the end," she nodded emphatically, almost as if she was just agreeing with herself.

I smiled warmly, this time genuine. "Thanks, Alice."

******

The rest of the day passed on typically and it had been pretty boring, which I was actually thankful for. By the evening, I was overly excited to be going to class for Alice the next day, anticipating lectures and note-taking. I missed university terribly and I was aching to go back. I knew that one day of having the experience would probably only leave me missing it more, but I didn't care. I was looking forward to actually having _fun_ again, seeing my old classmates and professors, just learning something, anything. I would tell everyone that Alice was out sick and I was just doing her a favour, helping her keep up. I'd have to avoid anything more specific than that, since any other details would lead to my departure, something I was not interested in explaining. I'd dropped out suddenly in the middle of the year to help run Swan's, one of Charlie's only successful business ventures since, well, since the Cullen debacle. Charlie had a difficult time finding employees because of his reputation, despite the lack of truth behind any of it. I wanted him to succeed, and after he'd managed to build a fairly respectable customer base, I wasn't going to watch him let it go. I wanted him to have the time to focus on the rest of his business plans, something he could throw himself into and truly enjoy like he used to; happy, like I remembered him. My taking over the bar freed him up to other possibilities, and truthfully, I couldn't find enough regret within my decision to dwell on any losses that came from it. There was always time.

I felt a certain calmness around me, ludicrous as it seemed, considering the last couple of days I'd had. Still, I couldn't help finding hope in Alice's earlier statement. Perhaps saying everything would turn out okay was a premature assumption, after all, this was my life we were talking about. Regardless, I didn't battle with the inexplicable lightness, the kind of feeling that anticipated something different, something new.


	5. Human Of The Year

**Chapter 5: Human Of The Year**

_Bella:_

I laughed with ease when Alice and I stumbled clumsily out of Swan's. I'd made it through the evening worry free, no visits of any kind, no drama whatsoever. After a day of shopping, Alice had dropped me off at work and then came back to keep me company for the tail end of my shift and we'd shared a few drinks. Well, I had a few and Alice had many more. I was shamelessly enjoying my buzz and couldn't stop laughing at Alice as she slurred and tried to keep her footing. I was even content to make the walk home despite the chilly night, taking advantage of the arrival of my now infrequent carefree side. I chortled loudly when Alice dropped her purse, its contents strewn all over the sidewalk, her drunken fumbling and incoherent rambling too hilarious to take all at once.

We both giggled uncontrollably as went bent over to pick up her things, stretching across the ground, laughing louder every time we found an object further and further away from its original place of impact.

My grin fell off my face when I jumped at the sight of the figure a few feet away from me, bending to pick something up off the pavement and then standing, casually moving towards me. My heart only raced faster when I realised who it was, so I shot up quickly, standing up straight in a more familiar position, making me feel less ridiculous.

"You missed this one," Edward said as he held out a small tube of lip balm that had rolled away, seemingly straight into his hands.

He was smiling, almost innocently, as though he was using the object as a peace offering, trying to convey he wasn't smiling because he was trying not to laugh at the scene Alice and I had created.

"Oh, thanks," I said, my tone curt as I snatched the tube out of his palm, careful not to make contact.

I turned to look at Alice, who was now kneeling on the ground, frozen in place, mouth hanging open. I went to her, grabbing her by her shoulders and dragging her up to stand. She laughed and leaned her weight on me, clutching her now re-filled purse, looking at me and then him, all too amused. She was sagging, her intoxicated state catching up to her body, and I struggled to hold her up.

Edward inched forward and then stopped, his arms out as if to catch something, but he quickly lowered them to his sides.

"Are you all right?" He asked us, eyes moving from Alice and then to me.

I didn't look at him. "Alice here had too much to drink. We're fine. Thanks, again," I raised the lip balm in display, then pushed it into her purse and pulled her forward, her feet struggling with the gait I'd chosen.

"Are you walking?" He asked as I dragged Alice past him.

I stopped and sighed, giving Alice a sidelong glance. "_Someone_ has irresponsibly misplaced her keys. Luckily, it's not far," I said, my annoyed comment almost entirely directed at Alice, who was smiling childishly.

He grinned now, not trying to hide his amusement. "I can give you a ride," he motioned to his car parked just up ahead at the side of the road.

I cringed. "No, thank you, we're okay."

"Please, Bella?" Alice suddenly chimed in, and I made a mental note to slap her later.

I gave her a look of betrayal but she continued. "I really have to go to the bathroom," she whined.

I rolled my eyes in defeat. Edward searched my face for a moment and then turned, heading towards his car and glancing back as he walked, checking to see if we were following him.

Alice clumsily pulled me forward and I had no choice but to follow, that or tumble over, her weight still relying on my balance.

I watched as Edward unlocked his back door, opening it and leaning in, I assumed moving things out of the way to make room for Alice.

"I hate you," I whispered to her, my voice seething. She chuckled as Edward moved out of the way, resting his hand on the door and motioning that she could get inside. I felt relief when Alice's weight left my body and she staggered towards the car.

Predictably, she tripped over her own feet and flew forward, my hands reaching out to grab her, but only finding the back of her shirt, which quickly slipped from my grasp. Edward slid forward as Alice went careening straight into his already open arms, her face planting into his chest. He pulled her up, effortlessly holding her minimal weight as he laughed quietly.

Alice, on the other hand, was practically guffawing, terribly amused by her own stupidity. I winced from the second-hand embarrassment as she regained some composure, still barely standing on her own. As he helped her move towards the car, she patted his chest and smiled up at him.

"He _is _a stand-up guy, Bella," she murmured as she crawled on to the seat after he'd released her, knowing she was steady. He glanced at me and then quickly looked away, the humiliation seeping out of my face. Alice was going to pay. He closed the door carefully and then pulled on the handle of the passenger's side door, leaving it open as he walked around the front of the car and got in.

I begrudgingly slipped in, glancing back at Alice, who'd taken up the entire length of the backseat, leaving me no choice but to sit up front. I could have sat in back with her, under the guise of wanting to care for an intoxicated friend, though at this point, I would've been perfectly content with leaving Alice on the sidewalk and running all the way home by myself.

Edward started the car as I spurted out the directions to my apartment, thinking to myself that Alice was definitely going to be coming home with me. I would have had her dropped off at her own place, but hers came before mine, and I certainly wasn't going to be in the car alone with him. She deserved to sleep on my uncomfortable couch anyway.

The low hum of the engine was not loud enough to make the silence in the car bearable, and the tension was so tangible that I felt like I needed to say something, anything, to make the ride shorter. I saw myself as obligated to be polite, considering the circumstances, despite the fact that it wouldn't have mattered; my desire to never speak to or see him again still effectively in place.

While I skipped over subject after subject in my head, trying to come up with something suitable to say, Edward spoke, interrupting my final resort of reaching for the radio. I yanked my hand back, resting it in my lap.

"That was rude, you know, avoiding me. I just wanted to apologise," he said plainly.

"Who says I was avoiding you?" I demanded, my earlier need to be polite suddenly gone.

Edward glanced at me and then looked back at the road. "Well, after Alice-" He paused and looked in the rear view mirror at Alice's passed out form, grinning, "-gave me the run-around, it became pretty obvious. I felt like a creep, waiting outside like that, but I figured you didn't want me to come in," he shrugged.

"You planned this?" I asked. I did know I was being rude now, trying to make him feel even creepier. I felt guilty, and I didn't know why I was doing it.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't plan _this_," he said, taking a hand off the wheel and gesturing to the space in the car. "I just wanted to talk to you. Like I said, I wanted to apologise, but I didn't know it would be so difficult," he finished.

"Apologise for what?" I asked, keeping my answers short.

"For taking up your parking," he smiled. "And for afterward, after you left. I didn't mean to-well, I am not my father. I don't care about all of that, I really don't," he said, keeping his eyes ahead.

"You don't care if he finds out?" I asked, surprised that he seemed so unaffected by _that_, the battle that had ended up defining my life.

"No," he said flatly. "Carlisle and I, our relationship is mostly business. I just started working for him after I graduated, that's why I'm here, back in Seattle..." He trailed off, seeming like he was sharing more than he'd intended.

"It just right there," I pointed as I saw my complex up the road, glad I had something to say.

Edward nodded and pulled in, saying nothing as he parked and got out, walking around the car. He pulled my door open and then quickly turned and opened the side door, Alice now stirring. She groaned as he helped her out, and I paused momentarily as I watched him grab her around the waist, letting her lean against him as he led her to the stairs. I felt almost impressed, clearly he was raised to be chivalrous, something that explained our first encounter. At that realisation, I was almost disappointed, which surprised me, though not nearly as much as the tinge of jealousy I thought I was feeling when I watched him lower his head, quietly speaking to Alice as he practically carried her up the steps.

I trailed behind them, wondering what he was saying to her; I thought I'd heard her laugh. When we reached the top of the stairs, I walked around them and unlocked the door, reaching a hand out to Alice as she lumbered forward slowly, still holding on to Edward. He didn't move when she got to the threshold, lingering just outside the door. I pulled Alice's arm, almost forcibly, until she let him go and was halfway into my apartment.

She turned and now, suddenly alert, exclaimed, "thanks, Edward!"

He smiled and looked at his feet, shoving a hand in his pocket and gesturing a small wave with the other, as if to say it was nothing.

I led her to the couch, practically pushing her into it and then quickly turning and heading back to the open door where Edward still stood.

I leaned against the frame, trying to seem casual. "Thanks, really," I said.

He nodded.

I rushed to fill the silence. "Apology accepted and everything, you don't have to worry anymore. I'm sorry too, if I was rude..." I trailed off, waiting for him to speak, or say goodbye, or at least make some movement to leave. Why was he staring at me like that?

"Okay, well, thanks again," I said, eyeing him strangely, reaching for the door.

"Wait," he said, seeming to finally be shaken out of his blank stare. "Can I see you again? I mean, I think we can be friends, our experiences could be pretty similar," he offered, quickly making his statement seem less intimidating.

I sighed and straightened myself, pulling the door behind me and stepping outside, closer to him.

"You really do seem like a nice guy-"

He interrupted. "A stand-up guy?" He asked, smirking.

I completely ignored him, despite my flushing cheeks, and continued. "And maybe you don't care if your father knows about any of this, but I do. I care about my family, I care about everything that's happened and us being friends is just not a possibility," I said, cheeks still flushed, but now from annoyance. How could he act so cavalier about all of this? Clearly, it was easier on the Cullen side of things.

"I never said I didn't care about my family, Bella," he said matter-of-factly. I was startled by how hearing him say my name had made me feel, almost like I had been craving the sound.

All this time, all the effort I'd put into not seeing him all seemed so pointless now, and for what? I'd convinced myself I wanted nothing to do with him, I'd scolded myself for thoughts that suggested anything otherwise, and yet here I was. I could go back inside, close the door in his face and completely forget him, but I was still here. Still standing in front of him, still, apparently, trying to convince myself. It was all too tempting, finding someone who just might finally understand what it was all like, someone who'd been through it, just like me. A different kind of friend, someone who, instead of sympathizing, could actually empathize.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," I said. I sighed and moved past him, sitting down on the first step outside my door, leaving a space next to me and wrapping my arms around my knees.

Edward moved cautiously, carefully sitting beside to me, keeping a wide space between us. "How did you mean it?" He asked.

"I just meant that, on the the Swan side of things, there's been a lot more... loss. Charlie doesn't need this, his own daughter, sleeping with the enemy, as it were," I paused, thinking about what I'd said. Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Poor choice of words," I muttered, covering my face with my hand.

"I understood," Edward said, pausing as well, thinking for a moment. "Being friends with me, a Cullen, would be like Carlisle finally taking everything away from your father. I get that," he said.

I nodded, biting my lip. He put it so simply, but it was exactly what I was afraid of.

"Carlisle would hate it just as much," he said. "He'd probably fire me."

"His own son?" I asked.

"Especially his own son," Edward laughed without humour.

"I'm sorry, Edward," I said quietly, enjoying the way his name felt in my mouth.

He stared ahead aimlessly, speaking slowly, almost as if it was only for him to hear. "It all seems like a lot of trouble, all of this over someone I don't know," he glanced at me, "but I was thinking, how long am I going to let my last name decide what I do for me? I'm an adult now, I don't need my father telling me what or who is good enough," he stated.

I perked up at his last sentiment, anger flashing through my eyes. "Good enough, right? I wasn't good enough before, but you thought about it, and now it seems like a good way to show your father you're a man? No, thank you," I said angrily, standing again.

"Wow, Bella, no, hold on, that's not what I meant," Edward blurted out quickly, joining me as he stood up.

"Here I am, like a complete idiot, thinking that maybe you'd know what it felt like, but of course you don't. How could you? You ended up with everything, the job, the perfect car, the education, and here I am," I repeated, this time with a different meaning. "Forget it, Edward," I spat, full of venom, turning towards my door.

He reached for my arm and then pulled back immediately, taking a step down. He raised his hands in the air, shaking his head. "You're right, forget it. You're the one embarrassed to be seen with me, too proud to even talk to me, you won't even give me a chance. Who is it that's not good enough, Bella?" He was fuming now, his eyes dark.

I opened my mouth to speak, my anger flaring, but he didn't let me.

"Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, maybe you should grow up and make your own decisions," he said angrily. He turned and stormed down the stairs, leaving me in shock. I heard his car door slam and the tires screeching as he pulled out of the lot.

I walked despondently into my apartment and stood there, insulted, angry and most of all, annoyed that he was right. I was embarrassed but still upset, his words leaving marks that I didn't want to see. I pushed every thought away as I slammed the door, determined not to dwell on any of it.

I remembered Alice then, and hoped the slamming door hadn't waken her. I grabbed a blanket from the closet and covered her, happy to find her still sleeping. I started walking to my room but my eyes widened and I instantly doubled back to Alice's sleeping form, kneeling in front of her. I started to shake her by the shoulders, needing her fully alert.

"Alice, Alice. Alice! Wake up," I pressed.

She groaned. "What?" She asked, groggily.

"Alice?" I asked, making sure I had her attention.

"What, Bella, what?" She moaned and covered her now open eyes.

"Alice, what did Edward say to you? When he was bringing you up the stairs, what did he say?" I asked, urgently needing to know.

Alice sighed. "He asked me if I thought you would give him a chance," she groaned. She turned over and covered her head with the blanket. "I said yes, you would," she mumbled.


	6. You Are A Runner & I Am My Father's Son

**Chapter 6: You Are A Runner And I Am My Father's Son**

_Edward:  
_  
"Have a good evening, Mr. Cullen."

I cringed at being called my father's name. No matter how many times I told the receptionist to call me Edward, it was always Mr. Cullen. It sounded older than I was, like some joke that was supposed to be ironic. I nodded and pushed through the main doors, relishing the crisp air as I took a deep breath. I couldn't wait to get home, filled with relief that the day was over. It had been a couple of days since I'd last seen her, and since then I had been resenting Carlisle with a new kind of ferocity, making being at work all the more exhausting.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and turned the corner swiftly. I stopped short when I saw her standing there, looking nonchalant. She wasn't facing me and hadn't seen me yet; she was leaning against my car, fiddling with something on her sleeve, tapping her foot absently.

I looked behind me, wondering if there was anyone still around who could see the meeting that was about to occur. I felt relieved when I remembered I had been working late, the lot almost entirely deserted.

I approached her cautiously, coming to a halt a few feet away from my car and crossing my arms. "This is just getting ridiculous," I said.

I saw her jump slightly as she turned to face me, shrugging. "I thought it was my turn to be the creep," she said, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips.

I stared at her. Was this a joke? Was she being funny? I was at a loss.

"Not that funny. Sorry," she said, still smiling, now apologetically.

"No... I'm just, I'm confused," I said, my words lagging.

"Right, well, I was waiting for you... obviously I was doing that, um, do you always get off work this late?" She asked, biting her lip, the first part of her sentence seemingly directed only to herself.

"No, I stayed late. Sorry, if I knew-"

"That's okay," she cut me off.

I laughed then, at our unbearably awkward banter, everything was so tense, all I_ could _do was laugh. I figured I'd help her out.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" I said softly, trying not to sound harsh.

"I came to apologise, too. But really, I thought about what you said, and you were right," she said.

I shook my head, moving forward and leaning against my car beside her. "No, I wasn't. I don't think any of those things, any of what I said," I finished.

"Edward?" She asked.

I looked at her.

"Be quiet, please."

"Oh."

She continued. "You were right, I do need to make my own decisions and start living my life like it's actually mine. I was too proud. I wanted to hold on to something, I guess, dignity or whatever I thought it was. But I created the opposite. And I didn't give you a chance. That was the worst part," she finished.

I smiled and parted my lips to speak, but she held up a finger, wanting to go on. "It's true, I think we could be friends, we probably do have a lot in common. But I'm not ready to parade it around, I need time to ease Charlie into it and..." She trailed off when the look on my face told her I understood.

She looked at her feet. "And honestly, I'm terrified to be seen here and I was kind of thinking maybe we could go," she said.

I laughed and raised my hands in the air. "Fair enough," I said.

I unlocked my car door and then looked up at her. "Your car?" I asked.

"Yeah, about that. I walked here. I was sort of hoping this would go well and I thought-"

"Get in, Bella," I said.

She smiled and walked around the front of my car, cautiously slipping into the seat.

I started the car and glanced at her. "Anywhere you want to go? Home?" I asked.

"No, I don't have to-well, surprise me," she said.

I nodded and pulled out of the lot. Who was this Bella, so at ease, so unfiltered and real? I didn't know this version of her, so cheerful and unabashed in her candor. I didn't really know many versions of Bella at all, but every time we'd met previous, everything had always been so heavy, filled with pretense and subtext. Now everything felt light and easy, like new friends and not perpetual strangers.

I drove aimlessly at first, knowing the streets well. She curled up in the seat and turned to stare at me. She asked me about school and what I'd studied there, why I chose to come back to Seattle. I edited, not giving her the real reason for my return, but sharing enough that I felt justified. I, too, asked her about school, and felt slightly regretful when she meekly told me she'd dropped out and why she was working at Swan's. I asked her about Alice, and she told me stories that kept her laughing, which I preferred. We both steered the conversation away from our fathers, which, strangely, was supposed to be our one commonality. I began to drive with purpose, knowing exactly where I wanted to take her.

I pulled into the dock, shutting off the ignition and turning to her. "This is where I come sometimes," I said, getting out and pulling my jacket off my seat. I walked around to the front of the car and leaned against the hood as she came around to meet me. I handed her my coat and she took it quietly, putting it on and wrapping it shut around her, the breeze off the water crisp and chilling.

"What do you do here?" She asked softly.

"Mostly just think," I said. I wanted to show her something personal but without any detail, so I kept it short.

I had come here frequently with Carlisle, and then, as I got older, always alone. I knew he didn't come here anymore, he didn't do much of anything normal any longer, but it was a habit I picked up from him when he was still functioning properly, seeking silence and routine to help sort things. I had come here that night, after the first time I'd met her, to try and settle my mind. I had intended to leave renewed and solid in my resolve. I hadn't known then, why I seemed so strangely attached to her, why I didn't want to walk away. Instead I'd left here filled with anxiety, nervous about nothing in particular, uneasy and haunted. It was the reason I'd shown up again the next day, attempting to quell whatever was inside, though now, I realised, it was still present. I reminded myself of the purpose of this place, the cold air and moving water always calmed me, the ferries coming back and forth, a constant and rhythmic lull. I wanted to smile knowingly at the idea that I'd, quite literally, brought my problem here with me, but I decided to leave that for another time.

I turned to her, but her eyes were closed and she looked content. I stared back ahead, comfortable with the quiet.

I heard her take a slow intake of breath, so I listened, anxious to hear what she might have to say.

"Don't you think this is all so tiring?" She asked.

I looked down at her, but her eyes were still moving, searching the air in front of her. I waited.

"All of this pain and fighting, I don't have the energy for it," she sighed.

I felt like there was more meaning to what she was saying, more than I could understand. My heart suddenly ached, watching her stare aimlessly ahead, her eyes, indeed, tired, her face now falling slightly. I wanted to take her up in my arms again, like before, and hold her there, remembering vividly the comfort I had wanted so desperately to provide her. I wanted to tell her that whatever it was, whatever it was that was so much bigger than her, that I'd make it go away. But I couldn't. I couldn't do any of the things I wanted for her, I wasn't equipped to answer any of the questions she had, not good enough to have my touch be the solace she was looking for. I wanted my own answers, to know why all of this was flooding back, something I'd written off before as quickly as I could. I ignored the bewildering sense of possession I was feeling, the unwarranted desire.

I conceded then, almost shocked by my own willingness to sacrifice my own wants. I wanted to push forward, reach out and grab what I wanted to take. But instead I reshaped my reservations, trying to mold them to her form, almost like I was trying to impress her, though she'd never know. I sighed.

"If this is a senseless act of rebellion on both our parts, then we don't have to go to the trouble," I said, trying to keep my words neutral.

"Do you think that's what it is?" She asked, curiously.

"I don't mean for it to be," I said truthfully. "I don't want it to be that, I mean. But you are right, it's easier for me. If you walk away, I'll walk away, Bella," as I said it, I realised I meant it, if I was causing her more trouble, then I'd give up being selfish. I continually reeled at my own selflessness.

"I'm not going to," she said, crossing her arms.

I smiled at the look of determination on her face. "I don't want you to think I'm using you, like you said before," I offered.

"I don't think I ever thought that, really. I think I thought that's what I would be doing. But I should be able to do what I want. We should be able to, right?" She asked, looking for affirmation.

"Definitely," I concurred. "But no one has to know, if you don't want them to," I said, providing an escape.

"Maybe not for now," she smiled.

We spoke intimately for a while longer, our voices hushed despite our privacy, mostly about nothing and everything at the very same time. The space we kept from each other had shrunk significantly, though I did my best not to touch her. I let myself be aware of the gap that separated us, vibrating and seizing between us. I almost became uncomfortable in my own head, unwilling to accept what I thought may be coming.

I saw her shiver and was ripped back into the present, the night much colder coming off the water. I didn't know how much time we'd spent here, but it was dark and the air was beginning to bitterly whip around us.

"I have to get you home," I said, almost begrudgingly.

"Oh, right," she said, I thought, with a hint of disappointment.

We both stood straight then, awkwardly facing each other. "Well, thanks for giving me a chance," I said, laughing.

She smiled somewhat knowingly, and I wondered why. She stared down at her hands and I stepped forward then, my feet moving of their own accord. She lifted her chin to look up at me, and I raised my hand to touch her face, but instead left it lingering in the air, stuck in my own action. She looked away, shuffling nervously, so I lowered my hand, not knowing my intention in the first place. She looked at me again, her eyes boring into mine, and then she swiftly closed the space between us, wrapping her arms around my back and resting her cheek on my chest. My body almost caved around her, as though this was what it'd been waiting for all along, suddenly awakening to every nerve being shocked back to life. All the confusion, every question fluttered away as I placed my arms around her softly, trying to control the urgency. I looked down at the top of her head, thinking I was in trouble.

"We have to stop ending up like this," I muttered, as I tightened my arms around her reflexively.

"It's just nice to know someone who actually actually gets it," she mumbled against my chest, seemingly trying to give reason to our embrace, moving away slightly.

I think I may have protested had she continued to pull away, but we froze in place when we heard a car door slam, both of us turning our heads toward the sound. I recognised him instantly, his arrogant stance, his fists balled at his sides, those fists that I knew so well. I saw a new vehemence flashing through his eyes, something savage and barbaric, a wildness that even I had not seen before.

Carlisle stepped forward and that broke my trance as I heard Bella gasp quietly. I felt something I recognised all too well, something I thought I had grown out of; raw, unbridled fear. I turned her body with mine, holding her tightly and shielding her instinctively, practically dragging her towards the car door.

"Edward, what are you doing?" She asked hurriedly. Her feet struggled to keep their place on the ground as she tried to walk backwards with me. I lifted her slightly to get there faster, then pressing her against the car with my body as I opened the door and started to push her towards the seat.

"Edward-"

"Please, Bella, get in the car," I begged, cutting off her protest.

She swung her legs over the seat and I closed the door, rushing around and getting in, slamming my door and starting the ignition, peeling out in reverse and then crushing my foot to the accelerator, glancing in the rear view mirror to see Carlisle menacingly sliding something back into his inner coat pocket. I felt my hands clutching the wheel painfully, every inch of my body tensed and aching. I could suddenly hear my breathing loudly in my own ears, and the sound calmed me minutely, so I shot a quick glance at Bella, expecting the worst.

She was gaping at me, stiff in the seat, her eyes wide, mouth hanging open. When our eyes met, she was almost glaring at me, the shock distorting her face.

"What just happened?" Her words flew at me, demanding everything.

I looked away, staring at the road, my foot pressing harder on the pedal. "There's something I didn't tell you," I said.


	7. Two Headed Boy

**Chapter 7: Two-Headed Boy**

_Edward:_

"What?" Bella asked, almost yelling. She was looking from me to the road as she put her seat belt on.

"It doesn't even matter, I'm taking you home," I said, slightly calmer, now just angry.

"Okay,_ all right_," she said, annoyed, slumping into her seat and crossing her arms.

She waited a second and then she started again. "I don't understand wh-"

"Do you know who that was?" I asked, my voice rising.

"Of course I knew!" She yelled fully now, huffing and turning from me completely, putting all her attention on her firmly clasped hands.

I shook my head, squinting my eyes, peeling my foot off the gas slowly and relaxing my position. Endless moments passed as I decreased my speed little by little, focusing entirely on what was in front of me. After a long silence, I felt Bella's eyes on me again.

"Are you done, now?" She asked, slightly belligerent.

I clenched my jaw. "I know I said wanted to be friends, but it's not going to work out. I'm sorry," I said, through gritted teeth. I had to end it now, finish it, before it got worse.

She wanted to say something else, I knew she did, but she turned her head in surprise as I pulled into her complex, the speed at which I'd gotten us here impressing me, as well. I shut off the car and slumped back in my seat, waiting for her to say something, knowing my earlier statement likely had no effect in swaying her.

"I thought you didn't care if he knew," she said meekly. She practically whispered it, and I realised that she sounded like she was afraid of me or my reaction.

I sat forward, looking at her for the first time, searching her face, waiting for her to meet my eyes. When she finally looked at me, I started to speak.

"I didn't care because I thought he never _would_ know. It was just so-he never would have... you don't understand," I said, giving up.

"No, you're right, I don't understand anything you're saying," Bella said, exasperated.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to think of where to start. "There's so much more than you know, than anyone does. Carlisle is not the same man he was. He hasn't been for a long time. He started to change while he and your father were still friends. Charlie tried to help, you know," I said, watching her expression.

She shook her head, eyes squinted, her confusion telling me that she didn't know any of the story I did.

I sighed. "Carlisle was acting like a different person. My mother, Esme, went to Charlie for help, knowing she could trust him. She and Charlie tried everything, trying to figure out what had happened to him. He was paranoid and completely erratic, hiring guards, destroying documents, no one ever knew why. He stopped trusting us, too. I was young, but I remember the way he was acting, how suddenly, one day, he just wasn't my father anymore. My mother was afraid for me and herself. He started to lash out at us, at me," I paused, refusing to go into more detail on that part.

Bella searched my face, and then her eyes widened.

I continued, changing the subject. "After a while, he started to shut everyone out. He was slowly taking things away from Charlie without his knowledge, almost as though he was covering his tracks. He became suspicious of my mother and Charlie, accusing them of anything he could think of, and that's when it really started. You must remember, that's when it started to come up in the papers," I said.

She nodded mechanically.

I went on. "When I was old enough, after my mother left, Carlisle stopped going outside. That's why I thought it was so impossible, so safe. He never leaves the house. He oversees things through me, which is why I really came back here, back to Seattle. I only stay because eventually, he's going to leave the company to me. Then I can take care of things, my mother, give Charlie back what's his," I looked back at Bella, her hand covering her mouth.

"You know none of this?" I asked. "Charlie hasn't told you any of it?"

She didn't move, so I assumed her answer.

"That's good. Probably protecting you," I thought out loud. "Which is something I should have thought of. He probably thinks you're spying for Charlie or something else as equally insane. I'm sure he knows who you are. That's why I was trying to get you out so fast; I'm sorry about that by the way, I was just hoping he hadn't seen who you were," I said, downplaying.

"I... " Bella trailed off, not even trying.

"No one is supposed to know, of course. I didn't want you to know," I said.

Bella's lips parted, but nothing came out.

"You have questions," I assumed.

She nodded. "How can... how is he still in charge?" She asked.

I pursed my lips. "Carlisle is a very smart man. While he's lost touch with a lot of things, business sense isn't one of them. All that time he spent secretly taking the rug out from under Charlie's feet? That was flawless on his part. That's why, legally, no one could do anything, which is something else I'm sure you remember," I said.

"I do. I remember that well. But how did- I just, I don't know what to say," Bella grabbed her head with her hand, scrunching her hair in a fist, then letting it drop back into her lap.

I leaned forward and slowly pushed a stray hair back from her forehead, then pulled back quickly, realising what I'd done. She seemed like she was too preoccupied to notice, so I stayed quiet.

"How do you know all this?" She asked.

"My mother," I said simply. She accepted that answer easily.

"What was he pulling out of his pocket?" She asked, more curious.

"You saw that," I said, surprised that she'd noticed. "Probably about to call one of his henchmen," I said, sarcastically.

She furrowed her brow.

"One of his guards, like I said before," I explained, wondering only to myself if it _was_ a phone he'd been reaching for. Now, I couldn't really say.

She studied my face but didn't miss a beat, continuing to ask the first questions that came to her head, like she was checking them off a list.

"But you said that you never thought he would know. About us, I mean. How can that be? If he's the way you say he is, wouldn't that mean that this is exactly the kind of thing he'd know about? You can't be his only connection, can you?" She asked.

"Yes and no. Carlisle doesn't really concern himself with what I'm doing unless it's actually related to his interests. His mind is just one track now. While he may be... unsound in other areas, his focus remains pretty much intact. His goal, for whatever reason he built in his head, is to protect the Cullen name, whatever it stands for. He deals with other people when he has to, depending on his use for them, but he dismisses them easily when it comes to trust. He keeps me around, I guess, because I'm a Cullen. It's my automatic in," I said, thinking out loud by this point.

"That doesn't add up," Bella said, also thinking out loud.

"Well, there's a lot more to it than I'm explaining, Bella. What doesn't add up for you?" I asked.

"You're saying he trusts no one, but he trusts you so easily? There must be someone, somebody who'd tell him if they saw you, us; someone watching, anything. You were so sure, I really thought you didn't care," she said, searching for reason.

"That part is simple, only because, I'm all he has left. My mother is gone, his friends are, obviously, gone. If not for me, there would be no one to continue his legacy- as it were," I added.

"Then how did he know? How did he know to be at that dock, at that exact moment?" She asked, still pressing.

"That place, it's Carlisle's. I used to go there with him, before he... just, before," I said, stopping myself short.

She waited.

"It could be coincidence. Or things may have changed, I don't know. I haven't been here in so long, everything could be different," I offered.

Bella looked at me quizzically, still unconvinced, almost impertinent.

I opened my mouth to attempt providing more logic behind my conclusions, but only stifled air came out as I shrugged my shoulders, not finding the words.

She eyed me skeptically for a moment, but then her expression changed, a worried line creasing her forehead. "What do I... should I warn Charlie?" She almost stammered.

"Not yet. Give me a day. I'll find out what's going on and I'll come see you. If you want me to, I mean," I said, suddenly accepting that, after this, we may not, or should not, see each other.

She nodded, biting her nail, looking absently away. She turned back me, now biting her lip. "I'm sorry, Edward, this is just so much to take at once. I can't even think right now," she said, putting her nail back in her mouth.

I sighed, worry present in my voice. "Are you all right, Bella?"

She looked at me, removing her hand from her face. "Are _you_?" She asked. Then she laughed nervously, which surprised even me. "And here I was, thinking _I_ had it hard," she chuckled.

I smiled without humour. She was unhinging now, I had thrown too much at her, and now she was reaching for anything. "It's something you get used to. Are you sure you want to me come back?" I asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.

"It's too late for all that, Edward," she said, waving a hand in the air dismissively.

"For what?" I asked.

"For turning back, for pretending it didn't happen," she explained.

"I'm just worried," I said, looking for understanding. "I don't want to drag you into this any further," I offered, trying to make her see.

"Oh, stop. I dragged myself in. We're in it now, the both of us," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. Her sudden control and bravery reminded me of the first impression I'd had of her; solid, unmoving, unafraid.

"I'm worried too. But maybe, well, maybe we can fix things," she said, hopeful.

It was my turn to laugh then, the idea seeming entirely impossible.

She rolled her eyes. "You never know," she said flatly.

"I'll take that," I said, noticing her tired eyes, trying to concede, trying to end what I'd started. She needed rest, she needed to be safe in her apartment, away from me and all the trouble I brought with me.

I shifted my weight and opened my door, moving stiffly out of the car. I walked to her door as she was opening it, crawling out just as slowly. I stood, waiting for her, until she straightened out and came to face me. I reached down and took her hand in mine, quickly turning and leading her to the stairs. It was bold of me, again, but I still didn't care. I grasped her small hand firmly, and I felt her holding on, which was all that mattered. I pulled her up the steps, leading her around me when we got to the top, leaving her in front of her door. She stared at me for a moment, and I stared back as I carefully loosened my grip, letting our fingers brush past each other.

She unlocked her door, letting it push open, entering and then turning, standing in the doorway.

I moved forward and leaned against the door frame. "That's good," I said, motioning to the deadbolts screwed into the door.

She glanced at them as she took off my jacket, hanging it off her finger from the collar, holding it out to me. "Safety first," she smiled weakly.

I smiled back, taking my coat and moving closer still. "Okay, Bella," I almost whispered, while leaning down and placing my hand on the back of her head to pull her a little bit closer, kissing her forehead softly. "Have a good night," I said as I backed away.

I didn't turn back as I made my way down the stairs and towards my car. I was overwhelmingly conflicted, excited yet worried and completely stressed. I really didn't want to think of what I'd just started with Carlisle, what reaction I could have possibly created. I remembered the terror I felt when I saw him, the shock and complete disbelief. Had I actually missed something in my time away from here, he'd kept it from me well. I couldn't figure out why I felt calm despite the look in his eyes, one that I'd seen before, something I knew only meant bad things. Up until now he was always curt and dry in our exchanges, giving nothing away, as expected. Seeing him tonight, so unbound and free, was beyond unsettling. I tried not to acknowledge it, tried not to think of what he would say to me, what he would do. I almost shuddered as I pushed it away, hoping to leave it for tomorrow. I wanted to embrace my worry, deal with it as I should, but my time with Bella had been too distracting, had felt too warm and comforting, somehow filling me with peace. My stomach churned as I remembered small details and quiet revelations, all the things I'd shared with her so candidly.

I focused on the road, fighting the mental exhaustion, just wanting to get home so this night could have an end. If it was finally over, it meant I didn't have to think about Carlisle again until tomorrow, it meant I wouldn't have to admit my strange attraction to Bella, my excitement over knowing I'd see her again so soon.

I rolled my eyes at myself, entirely annoyed by the things going on in my head, amazed by the trouble I had already caused, and now knew I was likely about to cause, for myself and everyone I knew.


	8. What Would The Community Think

**Chapter 8: What Would The Community Think**

_Bella:_

I had woken up feeling resolved, like the morning was a new road I was going to follow. I was used to mornings making everything harder, what seemed easy in the night suddenly impossible. Now, as I got ready for the day, I was less heavy, inexplicably at ease. Maybe it was the spark of excitement I was trying to settle, knowing that Edward would be visiting me today. My heart fell slightly when I thought of the things he could be bringing with him; bad news, a goodbye, some new chapter of drama in the little war we were too used to. I dismissed them carelessly, trying to make myself busy with the menial tasks I knew I could start and actually finish. I cleaned, I did laundry, I fiddled with my hair in the mirror, passing the time until he would finally come.

I settled on absently watching television, curling into the couch willingly. For some time, I didn't know what I was looking at, what the people on the screen were even saying. My attention span was not cooperating and I felt like I'd been sitting here for hours, though I was unsure of the time. It was like the cushions had molded to my body, and, albeit comfortable, the fort I'd seemed to have created was too telling of my need for simple solace. I sat up just in time to hear a distinctive knocking. I jumped up in spite of myself and floated to the door, wiping the small smile off of my face before I opened it. I was stirred, morbidly curious for the news I was about to hear from Edward, pleased that I was going to see him again. I shook my head and unlocked everything, turning the knob quickly.

Edward looked up as I opened the door, his expression unreadable, not exactly bad, though still not giving me an idea as to what to expect. I stepped to the side, smiling weakly.

"Come in," I said, motioning with my hand, noticing it was the first time he'd been in my apartment.

He walked in cautiously, stopping and waiting for me as I closed the door behind him. I wrestled with the decision of securing my door as I always did, but settled on just the chain lock. I turned and walked around him, leading him to the couch. He followed me, only stepping where I did. We sat down awkwardly and I eyed him curiously, contemplating his silence.

"How are you, Bella?" He asked, letting out a long breath he'd been holding in.

"So?" I asked, ignoring his question. "What happened?" I begged.

He laughed. "Straight to the point," he said, almost dejectedly, which I didn't understand.

"Well?" I pressed anyway.

"I'm not sure?" He said, ending in a question. "Carlisle wouldn't speak to me at all," he explained further.

I looked at my hands, the lightness finally leaving me, the reality of our situation crushing back in. "Oh," I said. "I'm sorry," I pictured Carlisle, his angered face and clenched fists, clear as ever.

He nodded, pursing his lips, his own clenched fist resting on his knee. I wanted to make him feel better, offer him some kind of comfort to illustrate my understanding. I reached out and peeled his fist open with my hand, holding it and then squeezing it, trying to convey solidarity, at least. He looked down at my hand in his, his face achingly pensive.

I tried to wait, tried to be patient in our moment of silence, but I needed to ask. "What should we do? About Carlisle? Charlie?" I added. His eyes seemed to flare, the slightest hint of anger, but then it was gone, and with his other hand he rubbed his face tiredly.

He finally looked at me. "Actually, Bella, I think I need to leave," he said, standing and loosening his hand from my grip. I stood with him, annoyed, not ready for him to go yet. He had just gotten here.

"That's it? All this, and after one run-in, you're giving up? Really, you should have expected much worse than what happened last night, Edward. We haven't even gotten to Charlie yet," I said, matter-of-factly.

Edward shook his head, seemingly deep in thought.

"What, then? Are you scared?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, simply.

"You don't have to worry about me, if that's what it is. And you know Carlisle better than anyone, don't you? You can figure him out," I offered.

"I do worry, but it's not that," he said, offering nothing. He started moving towards the door, still visibly thinking. "I should leave it alone," he said, mostly to himself.

"None of this will ever end if you just leave it alone," I said, trying to use his words against him.

Edward turned, stopping where he was. He took a deep breath and shook his head again. He seemed to be giving in to something, his shoulders sagging like he had finally lost to his own reservations. He looked like he was almost bracing himself when he spoke.

"No, Bella, I just don't think I can be friends with you," he said, nervously. Was that what it was I was hearing, nerves?

Though I hadn't expected it, I tried not to look hurt by his honesty, tried my best to seem mature and understanding. I had thought we were fighting this together, but if he didn't care as much as I did, I wasn't going to fight for it alone. I didn't want to seem so desperate, clinging to such a new and tenuous friendship. So I nodded. "Is it too hard?" I asked, Carlisle's image passing through my head again.

He looked at my quizzically. "It is difficult," he said plainly.

"I understand, I do, if there's just no alternative," I said, shrugging, being as aloof as I possibly could. Despite the entirely legitimate reasons I knew he could give me, I still felt slightly rejected.

"Oh. So, there is no... alternative then? For you, I mean," Edward looked at his hands. So did I, simply out of not knowing where else to look.

"Is there a solution I'm not seeing?" I asked, genuinely confused by his cryptic questioning.

His brows pulled together, studying my face.

"What?" I asked, the scrutiny making me uncomfortable.

He stepped closer, still trying to read me, looking for whatever it was that I was, clearly, not providing. I shrugged again subtly.

Edward laughed softly and I glared at him, now annoyed. "Bella, I'm trying to ask you something, but you're not listening to me at all," he said, the smallest tinge of offense in his tone.

"No, I am listening. You said we can't be friends-which I was actually being pretty cool about, by the way-and I think it's obvious I'm willing to try anyway, but if you don't want to try, then no, of course there's no alternative. What can I do?" I asked rhetorically, sighing in defeat.

Edward bit his lip. "You're actually going to make me spell it out, then?" He asked.

I threw my hands up in the air dramatically while I rolled my eyes, giving up and ready to crawl back on to my couch, turning away from him.

He pulled on my arm, making me face him again. "Bella."

He'd said my name sternly, his hands now open in front of him. "Bella, I'm trying to ask you if _you_ are seeing the _alternative_ to being _friends_ in the way that _I_ am. Do you get that now?" He asked, expectantly.

I stared at him blankly, now actually feeling stupid. He was almost talking to me like I was a child, emphasizing words like I didn't know what they meant, and I would have been offended had I not felt so dense for not following in the first place.

He sighed. "I know I'm not being as clear as I could be, but the courage you are asking me to use right now is practically cruel," he said, now embarrassed.

"I..." I let myself trail off then, deciding I didn't want to dig myself into a deeper hole of idiocy.

"Are you really that self-deprecating? Come on, is it so unimaginable that I would want to be more than just friends with you?" He asked, almost defensively, his nerves now replaced by complete and unequivocal annoyance.

And then it was like I could actually see things aligning in my own head, everything falling into place and suddenly making sense. My cheeks flushed, flattery, fear, anticipation; I didn't know which. I felt my stomach churn and I immediately stopped staring at him, instantly overcome with a new shyness. I looked directly at my feet, intent on not thinking.

"Bella?" He asked.

I suddenly wondered why I felt like a fifteen year-old. What was he doing to me? Aloof, where was aloof when I needed it? I tried to go over acceptable things to say in my head, every idea falling flat on its face. I didn't respond, for everyone's sake.

"Bella," he said again, moving in front of me. Silence, still silence.

"Now you _are_ just being mean," he said, shaking his head and, I thought, smiling? My mouth would not open, not even when I tried.

"Okay, so I'm talking to myself then," he shrugged. A forming smile pushed on the corners of my lips. I wanted to say something, I really did, but I was stuck. Time seemed to be passing painfully slowly, but it was seconds, all seconds.

He sighed again. "One more time," he said, now completely serious, pausing and giving me, yet another, chance to speak. He reached out and lifted my chin carefully, forcing my gaze back up from the floor, looking me directly in the eyes. There was something there, something entirely different. He didn't look upset or displeased, he looked urgent as he searched my face, almost afraid.

"Okay," he said, nodding minutely. "If you don't want this, if you don't want me-" He cut himself off, struggling. "If you want me to stop, you're going to have to stop me, Bella," he pressed.

I watched him as he leaned towards me, seemingly in slow motion. Instantly, I no longer felt like I was watching from outside of my body as his touch shook me awake, both of Edward's hands suddenly holding my face, his eyes desperately looking into mine, now a different urgency behind them. Before I could think or move or even breathe, I felt his mouth very softly brushing against mine, his kiss molding to my bottom lip as carefully as possible and then gently moving with me as I responded to him. He held my head precariously, as though I could break at any moment. He was holding back, I could feel a distant tensity, like he was prepared, waiting for me to almost certainly stop him. The idea seemed appalling, everything in me screaming to keep him. My hands pressed against his chest, grabbing his shirt firmly, twisting the fabric as I clung to him helplessly. He gently touched my lips with his, pulling away and then back again, placing soft, single kisses on my mouth. Braver now, he ran his thumb against my bottom lip, breathing in sharply and then pressing his mouth against me a little bit harder, a small moan escaping me. I felt his hand slide back around my neck, pulling me closer to him while he moved forward, pressing my body against the wall with his. I let go of his shirt, my hands losing their strength, all of their control. His lips parted as he pressed himself even further into me, sucking my lip into his mouth and softly running his tongue across it. My mouth opened voluntarily as I felt his warm tongue moving against mine, our lips now crushing together, our bodies molded firmly in place. I felt my chest heaving against his, his teeth gently biting on my lip before his tongue was back in my mouth again, moving more urgently now. I heard Edward stifle a moan as he drew away from my lips and began kissing my neck, pulling me off the wall and wrapping his arms around my waist, moving his hand up my back and pressing me into his chest again, holding me as close as possible.

My arms now hung uselessly at my sides, my body too dazed to react properly, to act out what it wanted. I was too stunned, too blindsided by delightful astonishment, it was already too hard to even breathe. I urged myself to focus, to know everything that was happening to me, I wanted to know everything. I found my arms and dragged them up to his hair where I tangled my fingers, trying to feel, wanting to feel him more than I already was. I learned it was a fruitless effort on my part when he began kissing back up my neck, brushing his lips against my cheek until he reached the corner of my mouth, where he rested his. I completely lost my resolve when I felt him suck in air sharply and he whispered, "Bella," against my lips, his voice throaty yet smooth. My arms slid down again, but were caught by his own that were still holding me against him, still firm around my waist. I let them rest there on his chest, my hands grasping for his shirt again, needing something, anything to hold on to.

He rested his forehead against mine for a moment, trying to catch his breath. His mouth was faintly touching my lips, just barely close enough, teasing me every time he took in air. He let go of my waist, but neither of us moved an inch until he reached up and placed his hands on top of mine, flattening them out and pressing them against his chest. I could feel his heart pounding rapidly, almost as though it were outside his body. I thought I heard him whisper my name again when his lips flinched, but it was so quiet, so faint and almost painful, that I wasn't sure if I'd even heard it.

I finally felt his bottom lip between mine again and I sucked it into my mouth greedily, still trying to breathe, surprised by my own push for control. He suppressed a groan, wrapping his hand around mine, still holding it to his chest. The second his other hand absently wrapped around my left wrist firmly, my pleasure suddenly broke, everything that was so good and right and so overwhelmingly needed, all that came from our moment became perverted by memories of something else, another moment entirely, something unwelcome and without meaning.

I gasped in his mouth, and without thinking, pushed him away as hard as I could, wrenching my arm out of his grasp. Edward instantly backed away from me, both his hands in the air, shock and fear and confusion all over his features. I froze, shocked, myself, and amazed at my own actions. His eyes widened when they settled on my face, though I couldn't even imagine what kind of expression I held.

"Bella?" He said, still a whisper. "Bella, I'm so sorry, I thought you wanted... I thought-" He stopped himself when his voice visibly moved me, breaking my trance.

I grabbed my wrist and pulled it to my chest, almost cradling it. Edward searched my movements, baffled and completely silent. He inched forward, tilting his head slightly. I flinched again and he froze, slowly lowering his arms, his hands now almost reaching out to me. I bit my lip painfully and looked down, trying not to let my eyes brim over, clenching my jaw fiercely. I was not one for crying. Not ever, and not now, not in front of him.

He slid forward again, lowering his head and searching for my line of vision, trying to make me meet his eyes. He spoke softly, trying not to startle me. "Did I... Bella, did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice shaking.

I could hear the stress in his words and I wanted to speak, I wanted to tell him something that would ease him, apologise, at least. Instead, all I could do was shake my head childishly. I heard a subtle sigh of relief escape him, and again, he moved closer. I felt his stare more intensely at close range. I found the courage to peek up at him, fearing the reaction I'd find, but needing to know. His eyes immediately met mine, looking, really looking at me, and then moving down and resting on the hand clasped tightly against my heart.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, only a frustrated, ragged breath.

The sound was heartbreaking, needless. I faced him fully now, hoping the regret in my look was translating. "I didn't mean to," I said, my voice breaking.

His face fell and he took another step, now standing right in front of me, not more than an inch away. His arms were still suspended in the air, almost around me, but he wouldn't touch me, he was too afraid to touch me. At this, I felt the moisture brimming over, a betrayal, the shame taking over. I prayed for some stroke of luck, hoped he could not see. Despite my embarrassment, I ended up being grateful when I saw his jaw set in determination before he finally touched me. Tentative at first, he simply closed the space between us, letting me cave into his chest, where I hid my face. Knowing it was safe, he carefully swept his arms around my back, at first, barely making contact, and then, as a stifled and silent sob escaped my throat, he let himself hold me more firmly.

Letting his hand rest on the back on my head, he softly whispered to me. "Oh, Bella," he said, an almost tangible sadness in his voice, pain escaping his words. "What did he do to you?"

**Author's Note:** I know, I can't believe I dragged you through 7 chapters before that finally happened. Uh, sorry about that. There will be a lot more from now on, I swear. If you're still reading, I'm impressed. I just wanted to say thanks to audiovideodisco for reading and reviewing. I didn't think anyone would read this, and there you were, right from Chapter 1. Very, very cool.


	9. There's A Fire

**Chapter 9: There's A Fire**

_Bella:_

I didn't stop to think about what he'd asked, to wonder how he'd seemed to know what to ask. I was too busy swallowing the small sobs that kept trying to leave me, as always, beyond embarrassed. The concentration was too hard to maintain when I was in his arms, the comfort enveloping me was too inviting, too willing to accept my sadness. I wasn't sure what I was almost crying for, whether the memory of Jacob had become too real, or because something I was trying so hard to forget had made me ruin something I'd seemed to be wanting for longer than I'd realised. Not one for dwelling, I had pressed forward strongly, abolishing the memory and moving on. So why did it have to come now, sneak up on me and make me seem like some unbearably over-emotional girl? I took a very deep breath, calming myself, finding my usual demeanor. I needed to get away from him, create a space before he said something or did something that would get me started again.

I squirmed out of the shield he'd created, keeping my head down. "Sorry, I just need to..." I trailed off as I made my way to the couch, after everything, just needing very desperately to sit down, not even bothering to finish my sentence. My body was suddenly exhausted, every emotion that had just poured out of me finally taking their toll. My knees felt weak, my legs were shaking; I didn't know what my body was physically reacting to; what Edward had done to me, or something else of my own doing. I sat down, taking another breath.

Without missing a beat, Edward followed and sat down right next to me, achingly close, facing me fully. I kept my eyes ahead, taking another breath, this time actually a sigh, thinking that at least he knew well enough to keep quiet. If he was going to hold true to how he'd acted in every moment we'd crossed paths so far, then I knew he wasn't going to abandon me when I was acting like such a damsel in distress. I almost cringed with distaste, horrified by the way I was presenting myself to be, something I actually wasn't. Was he going to be afraid to touch me, now? Worse, was he going to think I didn't want him to? I wanted to tell him that he could grab my stupid wrist as many times as he wanted, that I wouldn't do that again, I was just caught by surprise, too in the moment. Instead, I said nothing, waiting for my voice to be less shakier than I knew it would be when I tried to clean up the disaster I'd just created.

I bounced my knee anxiously, now less grateful for all of his quiet, now dying to know what he was thinking. My head shot up when I suddenly turned to him, making him flinch slightly.

"I'm not crazy," I said, instantly regretting it and wondering how much crazier I'd just made myself seem.

Edward looked at me quizzically, and then his mouth formed into a smile and he laughed. I met him with a begrudging smile, and then I shook my head, serious again. "No, but really, that won't happen again," I said, hinting, I hoped, subtly.

"You don't have to do that, Bella," he said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You're allowed to have emotions, it's okay," he said, almost scoffing.

I was annoyed by how apparently transparent I was, how he just kept reading me like a book. I was starting to think that Edward was too much for me, too brave and willing and open. We were complete opposites. I couldn't wrap my head around how we'd moved from something so intense to this, now, so comfortable. I wanted to understand how he'd done that.

"It's not that," I said, lying only a little. He was right, I was adverse to showing emotions, especially ones that weakened me, but now it was something else. I was actually mad, upset that I'd treated him in that way, pushing him away like he actually was what he'd just happened to accidentally remind me of.

"What is it, then?" He asked, challenging me, like he knew that my answer would force me to answer what he had asked me before.

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, sagging my shoulders. I was trying to avoid the explanation, more than all right with leaving it alone and pretending it didn't happen. He looked a little smug, so I decided I'd at least say something.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away," I said.

"I'm sorry I kissed you like that. I couldn't stop myself and I thought you didn't want me to, so I am sorry for that part. But not for actually kissing you," he said. There it was again, his irritating candor. Who was this guy? I was floored, so I just stared at him.

He continued casually. "I won't do it again, though, because now I'm sure you'll just be out to prove something instead of actually wanting it. I don't want you if it's like that," he said.

I wanted to be angry about his candid prediction, but it did sound like me. Not this time, though, not now. Here he was, being unabashedly honest with me, yet I had somehow made him feel so insecure that he could actually think that it would be about that.

I shifted my weight towards him and grabbed his hand, taking it and molding it around my left wrist. Then I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed.

"See?" I said. "It's okay. I was just surprised. Nothing, look," I said, staring down at the arm I was trying to show him he could hold. Edward began to loosen his hand, but I squeezed it again. "It's _okay_," I pressed. He searched my face as I moved closer to him, parting my lips slowly, looking at his mouth.

His eyes widened slightly and he quickly started to speak. "You can't-" I cut him off when I kissed his bottom lip carefully, shifting into him further.

He pulled his head back and away from my mouth, letting his hand slip from my wrist. "You can't do that to me, Bella," he said, finishing, exasperated.

I ignored him and brought a hand to his face, running my fingers across his bottom lip slowly, like he had done to me just moments before I ruined it. He sighed and closed his eyes, grabbing my hand and placing it in my lap. "Not like this," he said.

"Then how?" I asked, licking my lips.

"When you're sure you want it. When you're not trying to distract me," he offered, staring at my mouth and sighing again.

I leaned completely into him now, bringing my face to his, letting my lips linger on his own. "I want it," I whispered against his mouth. "Nothing to prove," I promised. I kissed him only once, bracing for him to push me away. He didn't, so I did it again, feeling his heart beat as I rested my hand on his chest. He took in a breath and finally let himself kiss me back, taking my bottom lip in his mouth. Still, his kisses were tapering off, he was still fighting me somewhere, still trying to hold his resolve.

"Bella," he said, between a kiss. "You have to-" I ran my tongue against his lip. "...face it eventually," he was struggling to speak now, losing against my advances. I brushed his face softly with my hand and slipped my tongue into his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing myself against his chest, and he finally broke, digging his hands into my hair and pulling my head closer to his. He was trying to kiss me gently, trying to be careful, but it was a losing battle. He moaned as he pushed against me and lowered me back against the cushions, not breaking our kiss. I felt his weight pressing on top of me and I threw my arms around his neck, holding him to me. Feeling him move against me, my chest heaving, I groaned when he deepened our kiss, moving his mouth fervently, our lips crushing together desperately. When he started kissing my neck again, this time lightly biting the skin and breathing heavily against me, I was completely lost. I moaned his name and grabbed at his hair, pulling him back on to my mouth, needing as much of him as he would let me have.

"Bella," he said, out of breath, still kissing me. "Bella, we have to stop," his words had no meaning as he continued running his tongue against mine.

"Edward," I moaned again, still pulling his hair.

"We have to stop," he heaved, repeating it, trying to make it happen. I tried to hold on tighter, but he was already pulling himself off of me, pushing off and moving away to the other end of the couch, leaving a wide space between us. He rubbed his face, still catching his breath.

Still catching my own, I shifted towards him cautiously. He moved his hands from his face and looked at me with desperation in his eyes, like he was begging me not to do to him again what I had just done. Instead, I crawled under his arm and settled against him, curling up beside him and resting my head on his still heaving chest. He absently wrapped his arm around my waist and let his hand rest on my stomach, but he turned his head away from me, staring at the floor.

"That was unfair," he said, defeated.

I raised my chin and tried to look at him, but he was still looking away. "You win, point proven," he finished.

I almost smiled knowing he could not see me, unconcerned as I was now. I wasn't sure what I felt so calm about, considering I didn't know exactly what was bothering him.

"What is it?" I asked, almost innocently, not ready to argue about what point he thought I was proving, about the fact that there wasn't one.

He sighed. "By now, you know I like you, Bella. Even having that used against me to push me away _would_ be impressive if it wasn't so frustrating," he said.

I did smile then, only because it was so ridiculous. Did Edward think I was using my body to avoid broaching the subject of Jacob, using the fact that he had just openly expressed feelings for me as a distraction or weakness? This was, maybe, the type of thing I could have done, may have done, before. But not with him. Never with him. Considering our experiences with each other so far, what an odd way to go, what a strange conclusion to jump to. Was this the vibe I was giving off?

I pulled my head off his chest to stare at his face, despite him still not looking at me. "That's what you think?" I asked.

"It's kind of insulting," he mumbled.

"That's not what I was trying to do, I wouldn't, I mean, wow," I said, not sure what to say, now embarrassed.

He finally turned back to me. "You're still doing it right now, Bella. I tried to get away from you and here you are, pressed up against me. I should be angry with you, and look at me," he said, motioning to the way his arm was wrapped around me. "What chance do I have when your body is this close? It's all wrong," he said, looking away again.

"I'm not trying to do whatever it is you think I am," I repeated, biting my lip, trying to find the nerve. I wanted to try his tactic of complete honesty, level the playing field of embarrassing admissions. I decided to go for it, closing my eyes to find the courage or, at least, hope it would materialize.

"I guess I know what that may have looked like. But it was because I wanted to do it. I couldn't stop myself either and I didn't want to wait. I didn't want to wait until after I told you, in case you'd think I was too messed up to deal with. If it was going to be the last time, I wanted to enjoy it," I said, peeking up at him shyly.

Edward looked down at me, effectively surprised. "Of course you're messed up," he said.

My face fell at the answer I was not expecting. He continued hurriedly. "I mean, obviously, we both are. Did you forget the first time we met already? What could _not_ be messed up about that?" He asked, almost rolling his eyes.

I nodded agreeably. He had a point.

"That's it?" He asked.

"I_ told_ you," I said, then thinking for a moment. "Why did you think you needed to be angry with me?" I asked.

"It's... nothing. I've said enough embarrassing things for today," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

I decided to drop it, having to agree that truly, he had done his share. I sighed, almost in relief, at least comforted in knowing we had gotten over that part, that I'd made it with minimal humiliation. I lowered my head back on to his chest and wrapped my arm around him tightly, finally, unashamed and simultaneously perplexed by how easy this felt. He mirrored my actions, the arm around my waist pulling me closer against him and bringing up his free hand to rest on my shoulder. He drew small circles on me with his fingers, soothing me while I breathed him in, trying to memorize every part of him.

I was forcing myself not to over-think it, intent on not questioning feelings stronger than I was used to. I was trying to make myself comfortable with the simple intimacy of the moment, intimacy that wasn't expected to lead anywhere, something else I wasn't used to. This time, out of the many, I felt like he deserved more than someone who was going to run for the door the minute things got too real or involved. Edward deserved more, and I wanted to be that, for once. I managed to quell my reeling brain, calm it before I could even start to scare myself away. I needed to be level-headed for what I was going to say.

While I was trudging through my own thought process, I heard Edward take a preparatory breath, so I let my attention drift back to him and whatever he wanted to say.

"You were going to tell me?" He asked quietly, seeming to suddenly realise what I had just said, that it was always my plan to tell him. I'd actually decided it the second I first pushed him away, feeling like I owed it to him, though I wasn't entirely sure why.

I shifted my head to look up at him. He turned his head towards me and finally let himself face me fully, letting me look at his eyes. "Of course, I was," I said, not breaking our stare.

"You know you don't have to," he stated, like I would be expecting him to say it. Of course, I was.

"I know I don't have to," I said. Even as I said them, it felt like my simple words had more meaning behind them. I tried to ignore the pit in my stomach as I almost audibly gulped, afraid of the inexplicable closeness I could feel forming.

Edward nodded once, and I wondered if he could read what I was thinking all over my face. He seemed to be good at that.

I pressed forward, still trying hold on to some part of my familiar stoicism. "Well, it's a bit of a long story," I started, typically.

"Wait," he said, lifting his hand and placing it under my chin. He tilted his head and painfully slowly brought his lips to mine, gently pressing them against me. He pulled away and looked at me carefully, and then he leaned in again, kissing my lips twice more; an unbearable softness behind his movements, inexplicably sweet and not so urgent, like before. He let go of my face, moving my hair behind my ear as he rested his cheek on mine. "I just wanted to do that knowing completely that I could," he whispered against my ear.

I closed my eyes and gripped him tightly, trying not to allow myself stronger feelings than I knew I was supposed to be having. He sat back, still holding me, and rested his chin on the top of my head. "Carry on," he said.

**Author's Note:** I'll have you know this chapter nearly killed me, ha. I have no idea why it was so hard to write, but I vacillated between staring at the keyboard and distracting myself with episodes of 30 Rock. A kind review got me writing again, and I did survive. Sometimes I choose song titles based on their relation to the chapter without the actual song necessarily relating; this time, I did not. I love the lyrics of this song, I often find myself in such a position, and clearly, in this chapter, so did Edward. See profile for details and as always, thank you for reading.


	10. C'était Salement Romantique

**Chapter 10: C'était Salement Romantique**

_Bella:_

I was glad for the position Edward and I were in, not just because I couldn't imagine peeling myself off of him, but because, if I was being honest, I didn't want him to look at me. I was afraid of judgment, nervous that my reasoning wouldn't be comprehensible to him. I cared what he thought and I hated it, I was unfamiliar with the feeling and it made me more than uncomfortable. He was leaving more of an impression on me than I was ever used to allowing, and nothing could be more terrifying.

Still, I swallowed my pride, wanting too much to finally just say it, more will than any fear could contain. I took a breath and began. "It really is a long story," I repeated, not actually sure where I was supposed to start, I searched for the place.

"How did you know?" I asked. "That it was about him?" I clarified, looking for any kind of segue.

"Your wrist. You held it the same way that night, when we met. I noticed you doing it when you saw him," Edward said, his words becoming slightly venomous towards the end of his sentence. We were both dancing around his name for some reason, almost in avoidance of validation.

"Observant," I commented, not even remembering the action. In fact, I had tried not to remember much of anything from that evening. It had never been brought up between Edward and I in the times we'd spoken, and I'd hoped that it never would be. But things had changed.

"It was hard to miss. You looked terrified," he said, now only distinct sadness in his voice.

I cringed, wishing he hadn't picked up on the one thing I didn't want to be; scared. It made me feel helpless, the complete loss of power putting my control in danger.

"He scares me," I said quietly, not realising the words were coming out of my mouth, suddenly shocked that I'd said it aloud, that I'd finally admitted it. He only held me tighter, sighing but keeping silent. In that moment of unwilling honesty, I felt my stomach churning, but I did my best to ignore it fully, leaving my mind blank.

"Jacob and I had been friends for a long time," I said. It was finally coming out, I'd said his name, I was doing this. Edward rubbed my back softly, as if knowing I needed the comfort.

I continued. "Our families have always known each other, Charlie and Jacob's father are still friends. We grew up together, same school, same friends. It was always easy, no judgments over my last name, of course, no effort. I guess, as we got older, feelings changed," I said. I had never explained Jacob and I to anyone, I'd never had to, and summarizing it like this almost felt cheap. I didn't know how to smash our history into one story, give it the sense it held in my own head. I pressed on, Edward's silence almost encouraging.

"I think I figured out what Jacob felt before he did, and I wasn't, um, against it, but I was sort of seeing someone else, and I think that triggered all of it. It was just this one night that ruined everything after that. We were here, in my apartment, both of us drunk, just... having a good time together," I paused and took another breath. I thought I felt Edward's body stiffen slightly, but I kept going, knowing if I stopped now I would never finish.

"I don't even know how it happened, but he was just suddenly... kissing me. I'm not sure why it didn't feel right, but it was too much, so I tried to push him off. He grabbed my arm and I pulled away, but he didn't let go and he fell on top of me. I think his weight broke my wrist then, I just remember the pain and hearing it snap. I don't know if I screamed, but he was just... on me, and he wasn't stopping; he still wouldn't let go of my arm. I don't even know if I said no, I don't know how my shirt got ripped or why it was hard to breathe," I paused again, the memories vivid in my mind. I was just thinking out loud now, trying to give it sense for myself, completely candid in my explanation, more than I'd intended, really. Edward had stopped rubbing my back, his hand now stiff. It felt like he'd stopped breathing, but I wasn't sure.

I re-focused because I knew was almost there. "After I finally got him off of me, he said things to me, called me things that I'm not going to repeat. I didn't know then, and I still don't know now, what happened to him that night. He wasn't the Jacob I knew," I said, finally finishing. I looked up at Edward, but his eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched shut. One of his hands was balled in a fist and resting at his side. "Edward?" I asked.

He took a breath and opened his eyes, staring ahead. "And Charlie?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Charlie did nothing?"

"Everyone wanted to believe it was an accident. _I_ wanted to believe it," I admitted. "Jacob told Charlie his version of what had happened. Charlie told him to stay away from me and give me space, thinking it was all a mistake. I never said anything because I didn't want... Charlie's known their family for so long, I wasn't going to take away..." I trailed off, knowing I sounded like an idiot.

Edward looked down at me. I didn't look at his eyes for long, afraid of what I'd find there.

"You have to understand," I rushed. "I know what it sounds like, but I'm not one of those girls. I left open the tiniest possibility, only because I wanted to hope that my friend was still there somewhere. After what you saw, that was the end, I will never-"

"I believe you, Bella," he interrupted, suddenly relaxing and bringing his hand to my face, an intense sadness in his eyes. As I stared back at him, I finally figured out why he had been so reluctant in the first place, so afraid to tell me what he wanted from me. I could see it now, I could feel what was happening and I knew that he was as terrified as I was. Something much bigger than the both of us was being created and we were going to get lost in it, all the pain in the world waiting to appear the second something went wrong. I couldn't find a part of me that cared, so I settled on just trying to keep it inside me for now, much like he was doing. I knew now, I could accept it now.

He closed his eyes and slid his hands under my arms and around my back, pulling me into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck unabashedly, resting my head against his.

"I'm so sorry," he said, saying every word slowly, emphasizing his simple statement.

"It was easier to tell you than I thought," I said. "I feel better now." I meant it.

Edward kissed my neck softly. "Promise to tell me if it's ever too much," he whispered against my neck between single kisses.

"I don't think it ever will be with you," I said, starting to melt at his touch, trying to think of a time I'd ever want Edward to stop what he was doing and subsequently, failing.

He stopped then, and I almost groaned out of the disappointment. "I don't want to remind you of him," he said. "I should kill him," he added quietly, I assumed, only half-joking.

"Thanks for the chivalry," I said sarcastically, already used to this trait of his. I made a mental note to ask him about it, later. I grabbed his face and pressed my lips against his, wanting to enjoy one moment where it felt easy, when, at least, for a little while, it seemed like there was nothing in the way, no Jacob, no Carlisle, no Charlie. I knew that from here on out, everything was going to be hard; being together was an almost impossible idea and we hadn't even touched the worst of it yet. Regardless, I concentrated on his mouth moving against mine, his hands running across my back and pulling me closer to him, the way his chest moved every time he breathed. I was going to preserve this snapshot of time if it killed me. I knew it was silly and careless of the both of us, to suddenly be so cavalier despite our respective histories, but I was done fighting.

As though he were reading my thoughts, Edward smiled against my lips and moved the hair from my face. "I have to go," he said, pulling me off his lap and placing me next to him on the couch.

"Already?" I asked.

Edward almost snorted. "I've been here for hours," he laughed.

"Oh, right," I said, shrugging innocently.

He stood, leaning back down to kiss the top of my head. "I hate to leave, but I really do need to. There's still Carlisle and-"

"I know," I interrupted, standing to join him. I reached for his hand and pulled him towards the door, stopping in front of it. I turned back to a grinning Edward.

"What?" I asked, unable to help smiling with him.

"I'm just... I'm happy, Bella," he said, his voice thoughtful.

I grinned back. "Me too," I said, standing up on my toes and kissing him on the cheek. I turned and quickly undid the chain lock, deciding it was actually best if he left before I tried to stop him.

He edged towards the door and then shrugged apologetically before he leaned down and kissed me once, a simple goodbye. "I'll see you soon," he said.

"Wait," I said, reaching for the phone sticking out of his pocket. I quickly entered my number and handed it back to him. "Whenever you want," I said.

Edward took the phone and smiled, shaking his head as he backed away, down the stairs and out of sight.

I closed the door and took a step into my apartment and then stopped and stood where I was. Alone now, my mind shifted and started to put the day into perspective. I felt giddy, like all of my problems had evaporated, as though nothing could possibly bother me. I wanted to... gush.

I went to my room and threw myself on the bed, practically feeling lightheaded. I was enjoying my lack of shame, for once unreservedly being alive. I reached for the phone sitting on my nightstand and laughed at myself as I dialed the number. I didn't just want to gush, I _needed_ to gush. There was only one person I could call.

I waited as it rang, biting my nail anxiously.

"Hello?" Finally.

"Alice, let's go get coffee," I blurted, not even bothering to greet her.

"Um, hi, Bella. When?" She asked.

"Now, please," I insisted.

"Okay, but you have to pick me up," she said.

"Have you still not found your keys?" I asked, laughing at her.

"I'll see you in a bit," Alice said, ignoring me entirely.

"I'm on my way," I said, hanging up on her abruptly and practically bouncing off the bed, my face actually sore from smiling.

******

"Totally called it," Alice said, looking smug.

"No you didn't," I said, laughing.

"Well, I thought it, obviously," she said defensively.

Alice and I had been huddled in the corner of our favourite coffee shop for what felt like hours. I told her everything from Carlisle appearing at the dock to the moment Edward left today and, true to form, she asked for every detail. I happily shared, grateful for the new high I was still feeling.

"I hate to be the voice of reason, Bella, but really, what are you going to do?" She asked.

I slumped in my seat at the unwelcome turn back into reality. "I don't know. It's too new. I'm going to see what happens, and then, well then I'm going to tell Charlie," I said, deciding it as it came out of my mouth.

"You're what?" Alice asked, as though I was speaking in another language.

"We can only hide it for so long," I said, again, realising the fact as I said it.

"So soon? What if it doesn't work out? Imagine how he will react, and all of that for nothing?" She asked.

"It's about more than that. Charlie needs to know I'm not letting this run my life anymore," I said. I meant that, but I had decided to keep one thing from Alice. I neglected to tell her that somehow, all of me knew that Edward and I weren't going to end any time soon. Not if I had a say, anyway.

"If you're sure," Alice sighed.

I smiled weakly. I was sure, but I was also a chicken, I had to admit.

"I have to tell you something," she said, perking up.

I waited.

"Jacob came into the bar a couple of nights ago," she said, almost wincing in preparation for my reaction.

I cringed. Alice was effectively killing my buzz. "When, exactly?" I tried to clarify.

"The day I took your shift. I wasn't going to say anything because I didn't think you needed to know. I told him to get out, but he said he just needed to know how long this thing with you and Edward had been happening. At the time it... wasn't happening, so I told him I didn't know what he was talking about. He left after that, but, I don't know, it seems important now," she said.

I thought about what Jacob had said to me that night, after he'd realised it was Edward I was with. I remembered the fear I'd felt, knowing he'd run to Charlie, knowing they would both assume exactly what was actually happening only now. I didn't want to care. "Well, if he's trying to gather things against me to tell Charlie, I don't care anymore. I'd rather he'd hear it from me, but at this point, it doesn't matter," I said, holding my resolve.

"But he _didn't_ tell Charlie," Alice reminded me.

"Not yet," I shrugged.

She looked at me carefully for a moment, narrowing her eyes slightly. I decided to change the subject, having had enough of any Jacob-related talk for one day.

"Do you want me to help you find your keys?" I asked.

Alice smirked. "Yes, please."

As we headed towards my car, I felt settled, like I'd found balance. While a lot of me was still reeling, still almost vibrating with excitement, I was no longer trapped in the moment. I was vacillating between the dreadful reality of my situation and the surreality of Edward. It was a strange place to be, but it seemed fair in its equality, like if I could just last, if I could just exist like this, somehow, it would all fix itself.


	11. How A Resurrection Really Feels

**Chapter 11: How A Resurrection Really Feels**

_Edward:_

Something wasn't right. It was too quiet, too calm; the kind of calm that only came before a catastrophic storm. I'd never been so naive as to think that anything I chose to do from here on out would be easy, but still, the abandon I was feeling now wasn't a good sign. Telling Bella how I felt about her may have been my first mistake.

After I'd first tried to speak to Carlisle and only failed, I began questioning,_ really_ questioning, exactly what I was doing. Things tended to seem easier when I was with Bella, like there was always a solution, like nothing was as big as it was made to appear. The distance from her sobered me, forced me to weigh the consequences of my actions. I gave thought to how things may end up, how much damage it was worth causing over a friendship that was so infantile. That very contemplation ruined me, finally made me realise the problem. A friendship with Bella was never what I wanted, it was never the reason I went back after our first meeting, and it wasn't why I was putting myself through all of the trouble. There was something about her, something I felt pulling me towards her recklessly, something, without knowing, that I felt from the beginning. The attraction only grew in every moment I spent with her; as I learned more about her, I couldn't deny it anymore. I wanted her, I wanted all of her. It was almost as though I actually needed her, like I'd been looking for her; like our bodies were meant for each other.

I should have been more shocked by my own revelation, but it made too much sense to surprise me. What was more unsettling was the force behind my feelings and the certainty with which I felt them. There had been other girls, there had been other moments in my life that should have taught me what to expect, but none of it had ever been like this; and never this fast. Even beyond being unable to understand the inexplicable strength behind my convictions, an air of abysmal disappointment was looming around me. Now aware of how I actually felt about Bella, it was like I was adding one more obstacle to this already unconquerable fight. And if I was willing to dismiss that, which I was, did it even matter? Was she feeling what I was? Had she experienced every second we shared together in the same way that I had, or was I alone?

I'd decided that it was unlikely, but I wanted to try. I wanted some closure either way, if nothing else, to end it, be done with my fussing mind. When I went to her that day, I'd lost any resolve I had the moment I'd walked in her door, unwilling to scare her away with all that I wanted from her. I had almost made it, I was going to walk away. Just having her look at me made me nervous and out of place, but looking at her was what pushed me. I was suddenly determined.

It had gone well, too well, all things considered. I was unbearably happy, finally having her in the way that it felt like I was supposed to. And that was exactly the problem; I wanted Bella too much. It had been three days since I'd dragged myself away from her, hoping the distance would recalibrate my desires, especially now that I actually had her. I convinced myself I had time, all the time I wanted to learn more about her, and so, I was going to slow down. The last thing I wanted now was to scare her, or myself, away.

Still, I found a reason to call her every one of those days, usually under the guise of wanting to update her on my nonexistent progress with Carlisle, which would give her an idea as to deciding how to deal with Charlie, on her end. Really, it was just an excuse to hear her, to ask her things and memorize her answers, taking any step closer to knowing her.

Today, I called her with a different intention, one that was entirely transparent. After we spoke for a while, I put my plan in action.

"Are you working today?" I asked.

"No, I have the day off," she said quickly.

I smiled. "Do you want to go somewhere with me?" I asked.

"Absolutely, yes," she said, even quicker than before.

Now, I was grinning. "All right. I have to do something, but I'm going to come get you in an hour. Is that okay?"

"I'll be ready," she said.

******

I pulled into Bella's complex and parked next to a car I didn't recognise. I got out when I saw Bella and Alice coming down the steps from her apartment. I wasn't sure exactly how I was supposed to act with Alice present, so I just leaned against my door and waited. They were talking and laughing as they headed towards me, Bella sending a friendly wave my way when she saw me. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but seeing her look happy to see me was reassuring.

"Hi, Edward," Alice said melodically, almost in a mocking tone. She grinned knowingly as she and Bella reached my car.

Bella rolled her eyes and came to stand next to me. I eyed Alice and then looked to Bella. "Hi," I said, almost shyly.

"Hi," she said, her face flushing. I heard Alice giggle quietly.

I leaned down and bravely kissed Bella on the cheek, guessing with complete confidence that Alice knew everything. At least there was one less person to hide from. Bella shuffled uncomfortably, brushing her hand past mine and letting me intertwine my fingers with hers.

With that, Alice laughed. "Okay, you two, have fun," she said, winking blatantly.

Bella groaned. "Go to school, Alice," she said.

"I'm going, I'm going," she offered, waving her keys in the air and moving towards her car.

She honked twice as she drove away, waving in the rear view mirror. Bella turned to me, still holding my hand. "You're lucky she knows," she said, smiling.

"It was pretty obvious she did," I said, laughing. There was a slight awkwardness to our exchange, seeing each other for the first time after everything that had happened was almost disorienting. I tried to fill the empty air.

"I guess she found her keys?" I asked, remembering the night I drove her home, and then Bella laughing and telling me that Alice still hadn't found them in one of our conversations.

"We found them at the bar," Bella said, laughing again, and then finally looking at me entirely.

Seeing her stare up at me almost expectantly was shaking the casual air I was trying to maintain. It was like I could hear her body calling out to mine, asking to be closer. I tilted her chin up and leaned in towards her, kissing her carefully and then pulling back before I could get carried away. The instant our lips touched, I felt the air around us change, comfort washing over the both of us. Bella looked as dazed as I felt, so I pulled her into a quick hug, letting the embrace speak for us.

"Okay," I said as I made a space between us, trying to settle my nerves. "Are you ready?"

"I am," she said, smiling again as she walked around my car and opened the door. "Where are we going?" She asked.

I opened my own and waited until we were both seated and then turned to her. "I'm taking you on a date," I said plainly.

Bella laughed and then quickly stopped when she saw that I was not laughing with her.

"Seriously?" She asked.

"Yes, and thank you for laughing," I said, a little offended.

"No, no, it's not that, Edward," she said apologetically. "A date with you would be... it's just, we can't go anywhere together," she said, her voice saddened now.

"I know. I'm taking you somewhere else," I said, at least glad that she was willing, starting the car.

"Where are we going?" She asked, finally starting to sound excited.

"Far," I offered, pulling out on to the road.

"Road trip?" She practically exclaimed the question, now entirely excited and almost bouncing on the seat.

It was my turn to laugh. One thing I'd learned about Bella was this: She was willing to be spontaneous at all times. In our conversations over the past week, she'd told me stories of the things she'd done on a whim in the past, her search for an adventure always present. I felt like she spoke of a past tense Bella, one that she'd lost along the way. I wanted to find her, resurrect her; I would bring her back if it would make her happy. If the girl I was getting to know was even a shell of the former one, I knew something great and real and pure was being wasted. I was intent on waking her, bringing her back from the dead and knowing all of her.

"Kind of," I said. "It'll be about a three or four hour drive. If you still want to go," I said, giving myself time now to turn back, if anything.

"I want to go! But I'm not dressed-"

"It doesn't matter," I interrupted, looking down at my own casual clothing.

"Okay, but you have to tell me where we're going," she pleaded.

I laughed again. "You have to know?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, dragging out the word for emphasis.

"I'm taking you to Portland," I said.

"Oregon?" She asked.

"Is there another Portland I'm not aware of?" I asked with a little bit of sarcasm.

She chuckled at herself. "No, no, it's just... I've never been out of Washington before," she said meekly.

"Then that changes today," I said, glancing at her and smiling. I took a hand off the wheel and reached for hers, grabbing it softly. She pulled it into her lap and gripped it tightly.

"Thanks for this," she said thoughtfully, staring out the window.

"I wanted to take you on a proper date, even if that means going out of the state," I said, squeezing her hand.

Bella looked back at me, I could feel her eyes on me, studying me. My heart beat a little quicker and I kept my eyes on the road in front of me, afraid I gave more meaning to this than I wanted her to know.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way?" She asked quietly.

I finally looked at her. "Of course. Where?"

"I'll tell you when we get closer," she said, settling in her seat and intertwining our fingers.

******

"I'm just going to go see him at the house, maybe he'll talk to me if I'm standing right in front of him," I said, Carlisle being one of the many topics Bella and I had discussed in the hour or so I'd been driving. Our conversation generally remained neutral, both of us avoiding the obvious subjects.

Bella nodded and then perked up. "It's the next exit off the highway," she said, pointing ahead. "I'll tell you where to go after you get off, it's pretty close."

I drove purposefully, prepared to turn and wondering where she wanted to stop. She wouldn't tell me.

"Okay, go straight, and then it's the first left," she said, like she'd driven the route herself many times before.

I obliged, driving straight and keeping an eye out for the first left turn. "Can I know, now?" I asked.

"It's my place," she said simply. "You took me to your place; at the dock. I want you to see my place," she said.

"Oh," was all I could say, feeling almost privileged. "This is kind of a long drive for that, isn't it?" I asked.

"I don't get to come as often as I'd like," she said. "But it's always worth the trip," she added. I made the left turn on to the small street, still wondering where we were going.

"Just up here," she said, pointing again. "You can park on the side of the road." I looked around, a little confused as I pulled over, only seeing trees and what looked like a park. Bella hopped out of the car as soon as I came to a stop, waiting for me on the grass.

"Where...?" I started, walking around to meet her.

"Just follow me, this is kind of a short cut," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards a barely visible path just ahead of us.

We walked casually hand in hand, my curiosity waning as we moved along the path, talking quietly. I felt fulfilled just walking beside her, not really caring about the destination anymore.

"Almost there," she said when we came to a set of small stone steps that were worn and crumbling. I wondered how many times she'd walked on them as she looked up at me and smiled, looking away again quickly.

"It's nice here," I said as I breathed in the fresh, unpolluted air.

"Not yet, Edward," she laughed. "Now," she said, turning and pulling on my arm so I'd get beside her sooner.

We were standing on the edge of what looked almost like a Japanese tea garden, trees covered in cherry blossoms, roses littering the different shades of green with intense spurts of colour. I could hear water, and I followed the sound to a large fountain surrounded by differently shaped stones, smaller streams weaving through the ground and trickling down the rocks. Everything was serene and calm, the breeze seeming to move slower here, like it changed its temperament just for this place.

Bella smiled at me and then let go of my hand, practically skipping down the stone path and climbing on top of the rocks that bordered the fountain. She stood still, breathing in deeply and taking in the view. The quiet was absolute, not another soul to be seen. The deserted garden seemed extremely private, like it existed only for this moment, for us; almost like its surreality belonged in another place in time. I walked down to meet her, standing in front of her, looking up at her now heightened form.

"Isn't it beautiful?" She asked, glancing down at me.

"Beautiful," I agreed, staring directly at her.

Her cheeks flushed slightly and she reached out to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her forehead against mine. "So, this is my place, Edward," she said quietly, closing her eyes.

"Thank you for showing me," I said, pressing my lips against hers softly, wrapping my arms around her waist. Bella tilted her head and deepened our kiss, parting her lips. I ran my tongue across her bottom lip and soon felt her own tongue moving against mine. I pulled her off the rock, now holding her body firmly against mine. I tried not to lose control of myself, so I loosened my arms, ready to place her on the ground in front of me. Bella wrapped her legs around my waist, stopping me from my intention, her body now even closer than before. She felt hot against me, her chest moving up and down a reminder of her form, her mouth soft and warm.

"Bella," I groaned, backing up towards the large rock behind me. Her weight was nothing, but her movements were weakening me. When she bit my lip softly and moaned in my mouth, I let myself sit back on the stone, and then instantly wondered if it was any better that she was straddling me now, her warmth in my lap, her legs still tightly wound around me. Still, I couldn't help but kiss her back with as much passion as I could feel emanating from her body, running my hands across her back and then grabbing her hips firmly. I wanted to stop her from moving against me, the friction almost unbearable, but the duality in my action also kept her there, pressed on top of me.

Her hands moved down and grabbed the collar of my shirt, her kisses beginning to taper off slowly as she spoke. "We should stop," she whispered, still placing kisses on my mouth.

"Please," I almost grunted, too lost in her lips, unable to articulate anything else, almost glad that she'd been able to find the strength to finish this. It was nowhere inside of me.

Bella pulled away and I took a long breath. She placed a hand on my face and my eyes felt heavy as I stared back at her, her swollen, wet lips. She looked apologetic as she kissed the corner of my mouth lightly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that to you, Edward," she said, shifting her weight as she straightened her shirt.

"Bella," I whispered, trying to hide the lust in my voice. "You have to get off me," I pleaded.

Bella's eyes widened slightly and she swung her leg to the side, sliding off of my lap and sitting next to me on the cold stone. I sighed and straightened my own shirt, trying to find my breath.

She rested her head on my shoulder. "Sorry," I said, clearing my throat.

Bella laughed. "No, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," she said.

I reached for her hand and clasped it tightly in my own, running circles around the back of her hand with my thumb. "I think I like you too much," I said, the words escaping me, the honesty pouring out.

"I think I feel exactly the same way," Bella said, sighing.

We sat silently for what seemed like a long time, only hearing each other breathe, the air we took in mingling with the moving water, the silence that surrounded us complete and infinite. My mind felt blank, like every fear was washing away down the stone path with the stream carrying it. All I could see was Bella; she was all I could feel, all I could smell, everything in front of me. I felt that urge again, that need to learn every part of her and hold it inside of me like it belonged there. I took another long breath.

"Why is this your place?" I asked, remembering that she hadn't told me.

"Similar story to yours," she offered. "I've been coming her since I was a little girl," she added.

I waited, but she didn't continue.

"Bella?" I asked softly, suddenly thinking of something I still hadn't asked her. "Where is your mother?"

Bella looked up at me and smiled weakly. "It's like you always know what to ask," she said, sighing again.

I held my tongue, worried I'd asked the wrong question.

"She died," she said quietly. "She was sick. But before, she used to bring me here, it was hers, her place."

My heart sank as I let go of her hand, only to wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her closer and letting her head rest against my chest. I leaned down and kissed her temple softly, deciding that silence was the best I could offer.

"I think Charlie would be better if she was still here, if..." she said, trailing off, almost in a whisper. She swallowed hard and shook her head. Then she sat up straight, turning to me.

"Our date," she said suddenly, changing the subject.

"It's fine," I said, shaking my head.

"No, no, it's all backwards," she said, chuckling now. "You're supposed to earn the kissing."

I laughed. "Your fault," I said, shrugging.

"Totally," she agreed. "How tawdry of me," she said, now really laughing.

She stood, pulling my arm so I'd stand with her. "Bella, we don't have to-"

"Take me on my date, Edward," she said.


	12. Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want

**Chapter 12: Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want**

_Edward:_

The rest of the drive to Portland flew by, the ease inexplicable but almost deplorable; I wanted time to slow down, not escape so fleetingly. Still, the comfort I felt around Bella was now solid, cemented within our every interaction. As we neared downtown Portland, I glimpsed at her, her bright eyes skimming over the metropolitan surroundings, her smile growing. I pulled over in to an available space on the side of the busy street, checking my pockets for change. Bella had already flown out of the car, and I laughed as I walked around and started to feed the parking meter. She was grinning at me, watching me, I figured, impatiently. I turned to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her casually along the sidewalk, a signal that it was finally starting, she could see everything she wanted now.

I looked down at her as we walked. "I have to confess," I said. "I didn't plan this very well."

"What do you mean?" She asked absently, her eyes drifting, looking behind her into the window of one of the many shops we passed.

"Well, I didn't think this would be your first time out of Washington. Now it seems like there's too much to do. Why _is_ this your first time?" I added, now curious.

"No reason, really. Just one of those things. Money, work, school... time," she said, shrugging. I studied her face and the way the warm sun glinted off her wide eyes. I was going to ask her what she wanted to do, what she wanted to see, but she stopped walking and pulled me through an open door, all before I could even see where we were going.

I breathed in the familiar scent of old books and watched Bella as she skipped forward, letting go of my hand and waving her own in the air. "I love used bookstores," she gushed, spinning around and disappearing behind a shelf.

I smiled and followed her as she ran her fingers along the spines of the dusty books lining every corner of the store. She stopped when a title caught her eye, pulling it out and holding it gingerly.

"Appropriate," she said, nodding to herself as she stared at the cover. "Very appropriate," she repeated, smirking and turning it in her hands, holding it up for me to see.

"Romeo and Juliet?" I asked, chuckling. "That's depressing," I said.

Bella shrugged. "Maybe a little. But..." she trailed off as she began leafing through the book. "There are pages missing," she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. She began flipping through with more purpose. "I wonder if- yeah, it's here," she said, tapping the page when she found it. She furrowed her brow, her eyes carefully following the words she was reading to herself. For the faintest moment, she looked sad as she bit her lip in silence. And as quickly as it came, the moment was gone, her face now only pensive as she shook her head minutely.

"What?" I asked.

Bella tilted her head, looking around me and then behind her. She smiled and then quickly ripped the page out of the book, closing it swiftly and tucking it back in to its spot on the shelf. I raised my eyebrows, a little puzzled.

"You know, I can always buy you the whole book..." I said, trailing off when she shook her head. With a small smile, she folded the page and pushed it into the front pocket of my pants. I looked at her quizzically, about to ask for an explanation, but we both jumped at the sound of someone else's voice.

"Can I help you?" The clerk asked, his voice gruff.

Bella laughed a little too loud. "We're fine, just looking," she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the door. He crossed his arms as he watched us go, Bella's laugh continuing until we were back outside and walking away from the store.

I shook my head and reached for my pocket. "I'm an accessory to your crime now," I said, unable to stop myself from laughing.

She quickly reached for my hand and intertwined her fingers with mine, pulling away from my pocket. "Read it later," she said slowly, as though it was the obvious choice. I raised my eyebrows but nodded and smiled down at her. She didn't smile back, instead studying my face briefly and then casually looking away. My curiosity waned promptly, as I was too content with just walking, with the way she leaned against me, how we could simply just be. I tried not to get caught in the moment, made sure I didn't blurt out that we should leave Washington; just go and not look back. Bella was making me careless, irresponsible and almost flighty. She was dangerous, making nothing else matter, and all so easily. I shook my head.

"What do you want to do?" I asked her, intending to give her exactly what she wanted.

"This is good," she said quietly, taking in a deep breath.

"No adventures, exploration?" I asked, a little confused. "There are museums and theatres and there's a Chinese garden," I offered, thinking she'd like that, hoping to show her something she'd remember.

"Just walking with you is good enough," she said. "I mean, if you had something planned, we can do that, but this is nice. Normal," she added. I thought of the complete freedom she must be feeling, because I was feeling it, too. The ability to just walk down the street together, like any couple would do, was almost oddly exhilarating. The word _couple_ echoed in my head, but I ignored it.

"Walking," I said, repeating the word. "I can take you walking," I stated, still determined to impress her.

Bella chuckled at my determination and gripped my hand tightly. The sun was low in the sky, the breeze still warm despite the approach of the evening. I knew exactly where I was going to take her, the sights Portland had to offer finally meaning something now that I had someone to bother showing. Regardless of the amount of times I'd been here, only now did it hold some value. It was now another place in my mind that belonged to Bella.

******

I led her along the boardwalk, pointing past the various people walking around us and towards the water. "This is Willamette River," I said, holding her closer now that the sky was dimmed and the air coming off the river was cool. Bella nodded, taking in the lights and blossoms littering the waterfront park. We moved along further until fewer and fewer people surrounded us. I pulled her past the boardwalk towards the trees framing the park, stopping on a small, grassy hill. I looked out on to the river from our elevated spot like I was seeing it for the first time. Bella turned her back to me, doing the same. I wrapped my arms around her waist and leaned my head closer to hers.

"Do you like it?" I whispered.

"It's so pretty," she whispered back slowly, resting her hands on the ones that were clasped around her.

"Come here," I said, as I pulled her down with me to the ground, letting her sit between my legs. Only wanting her closer, I kept my arms around her, pressing her back into my chest, her cheek resting against mine when she settled back into me. I felt her sigh, I hoped, contentedly.

Though I was more than comfortable with the silence, I knew the evening was dwindling down and I wanted to speak, to somehow stop it, like my words were the answer. I knew it would have to end, I would have to take her home, where it was back to hiding and secrets and pain. The reminder was unwelcome and vile, bringing with it thoughts and fears that I'd believed I'd put an end to. Thoughts that were rational, responsible, the right thoughts to be having. None that I wanted to have. I ignored them all, deciding to enjoy what I had in front of me.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"I was thinking that I'm going to talk to Charlie tomorrow," she said.

There it was. Reality. "Are you sure?" I asked, not prepared with anything better to say. "I mean, won't it be easier for you if he doesn't know, in case this doesn't... work?"

She said nothing, but I felt her body stiffen and she shivered. I pulled the light coat I was wearing around her, enclosing her inside it with me, wrapping my arms across her and holding her tightly. My actions weakened my pessimistic statement, so she relaxed against me again and began to speak.

"That's not what it's all about. But I'm not worried about that, anyway. Today was nice; too nice. I want to be able to do things like this without constantly thinking about who I'm going to offend, regardless of who I'm with," she offered.

"Oh," was all I could come up with.

"But ideally, it'll be with you," she added.

I wanted to smile, but I couldn't shake the ominous feeling I had long enough to be able to.

"Did you want me to wait?" she asked, after my silence lasted a little too long.

"No. I'm just wondering how much both of us will put ourselves through before one of us decides to give it up, is all," I said distantly. My mind was wandering now, too comfortable and willing to share anything, strangely enough.

"Oh, all right. Wow," she said, quietly.

As soon as I realised how it sounded, I quickly stumbled over my words to explain. "I just don't know if I can- well, Bella, I just, the way I feel about you is..." I trailed off, almost groaning at my own inability to say what I wanted to say. I rolled my eyes at myself, perplexed by all the things I'd never felt like saying to anyone before.

"I don't understand...?" Bella also trailed off, her words ending in a question when she turned her head and saw my tortured expression.

I bit my lip and set my jaw. "I like being with you. I've never wanted to be with anyone more, in fact. But that's the problem. Even though that's terrifying enough on its own, I'm more afraid of the way this could end. It's only going to get harder. For me, at least," I finally said.

Bella didn't speak, so I continued, finding my stride within sharing things I wasn't ready to say aloud.

"I don't think either of us knows what we've gotten ourselves into. It could be bad, it could be worse than it is. If you end up hurt, if _I_ have to hurt you, I'll... I don't want to be that person," I said.

"Are you planning on hurting me?" Bella asked, strangely nonchalant.

"No, no, I just, I think I'm more ready to walk away than you are. Only because I'm not as fearless as you seem to be," I admitted, while lying at the same time.

"I'm not," she said. "I'm just good at knowing what's worth it," she added.

Lying, after all, because I wasn't going to push any further. I wasn't going to try and make her see what I was saying anymore than I was; I just didn't have that kind of courage. She wasn't going to find out that the only reason I was considering walking away was simply because I was trying to save myself the pain of not having her later on, when it would be far too late to escape unscathed. I wasn't going to tell her that this was our last chance to make a clean break before there was no way that I'd ever leave her. I kept my mouth shut and gave in, sighing.

Bella shifted her weight and turned, leaning her shoulder against my chest, looking up at me. "You're right. This is a mess, and I'm almost positive it's going to get worse. You can't know what it means for me to resign to something like this, but I promise you, I'm just as terrified," she finished. Her eyes were fierce, blazing with intensity.

Looking at those eyes, taking her in, my mind felt at ease. I finally made the conscious decision to take everything that came with the choice of not walking away. I was putting myself at the kind of risk I was used to avoiding. It was knowing that I was putting everything on the line for her, knowing that I wanted to; accepting that before long, I'd do anything for her, anything to protect her, and all in spite of myself. It was the actual complete abandon, the final blow inside of my chest. I leaned my head down and kissed her mouth purposefully, parting my lips, wanting to feel her in this new way, knowing that only now did I finally have her. It was nothing like before, everything feeling differently now that I'd really let go of every last reservation.

When my tongue swept across her bottom lip, she pulled away and searched my face anxiously. "Is this you telling me you're not going to worry so much about this anymore?" She asked, a small laugh creeping in between her words.

I smiled and kissed her carefully, saying nothing more.

******

After reluctantly dropping Bella off back at home, I decided to drive to the dock and recollect my thoughts. Time seemed to stop moving when I was with her, but I had to shift gears and prepare myself for my conversation with Carlisle. Whatever the outcome, I just needed to know what, exactly, he was thinking, and just how much I needed to worry about it.

I leaned against my car and let the cold air fill my lungs. I shoved my hands in my pockets, searching for warmth. Instead, my fingers pushed against the wadded up paper that was in my pocket. I pulled it out, instantly remembering exactly what it was. I stared at the folded page that Bella had torn out of Romeo and Juliet earlier, smiling. I couldn't get away from her, it seemed, but I was not bothered by it in the least. I carefully peeled it open, curious as to what she'd chosen to rip out of the book. It seemed she'd pulled it out in careless haste, part of the page missing. Intact was only one thing.

_These violent delights have violent ends  
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,  
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey  
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness  
And in the taste confounds the appetite.  
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;  
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow._

_Enter_ JULIET.

A shiver ran down the length of my spine when the wind whipped around me with more ferocity. I flipped over the page, looking for something else. What, no "_that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet_"? Not even "_wherefore art thou Romeo_"? Perhaps her haste had not been so careless. I stared at the words in front of me, looking for meaning. Admittedly, it'd been some time since I'd read Romeo and Juliet, but I knew this speech; the warning it heeded, the foreshadowing it was meant to create. I crumpled the page slowly and held it in my fist, hoping that the tighter I held it, the clearer its intent would become. For all of the bravery Bella displayed, this ominous passage spoke of a different fear, one she hadn't shown. Not that I didn't understand the idea of consumption and dangerous longing when I was with her, but it was a strange thing to choose, a strange parallel to shed light on. This prose, its darkness grew every time I read it, filling me with what felt a lot like dread. I shook my head to rid myself of the thought, reminding myself that life was not a Shakespearean play. I opened my hand and flattened out the now crumpled paper as best I could, then folded it over neatly. I pulled my wallet out of my coat and slipped the page in between the bills I had there, thinking it had just as much worth as anything else a wallet could be meant to keep. And it would stay there, until I proved it wrong.

**Author's Note: **I'm alive! I promise I did not abandon this story; I hate when that happens to something I'm reading. Anyway, life got hectic over the holidays and I didn't have time to write. Then I finally spat out this chapter, but got cockblocked when I couldn't upload the document. Such is life. But things are back to normal now, so I'll be updating regularly-probably just not _as_ frequently. In case anyone cares, and since a few of you PMed me suggesting I do this, I created a livejournal account(username: cdpthp) where I'll be able to update in case a) I can't do it here or b) just to let you know I haven't written anything. You can add me as a friend and yell at me if I'm being lazy. Good times. Speaking of, this chapter was just about, "_Good times for a change..._" as the song/chapter title says. I just wanted them to have a good moment, seeing as... their lives kind of suck. More plot-centric chapters are on the way to move the story forward. If you still are, thank you for reading!


	13. Help I'm Alive

**Chapter 13: Help I'm Alive**

_Bella:_

Edward was talking, but, I had to admit, I wasn't really listening. Not for lack of trying, of course, I knew what he was saying was important; I just couldn't concentrate. I was doing my best to focus on his eyes, to create some semblance of giving him my full attention, but I was too preoccupied with being in this, his space, his... home.

He'd insisted on picking me up after work despite how late it was, and, seeming rather preoccupied himself, he drove purposefully, straight to his apartment. This was about the time I'd stopped paying any attention at all, my stomach churning during the elevator ride up, my fingers searching for anything they could find to fiddle with, some release for the anxiety I was feeling. I don't know if Edward had noticed, and I don't know why I felt this way, but I chewed on my bottom lip all the way to his door. I was curious and uncomfortable, excited and nervous. Regardless of the intimacy that grew in every moment we spent together, for some reason, actually being inside, where he _lived_, seemed extremely personal. I wondered if he'd felt this way when I first let him in; I remembered his movements, the way he only followed my own, and made a note to do the same.

His apartment was fairly modest, spacious, but not too big; though it wasn't what I'd expected. I didn't actually know what I had been expecting at all, but this seemed different, nonetheless. Apart from two couches and a large shelf haphazardly piled with books, it was empty. There were boxes stacked around that he still hadn't unpacked, and some framed artwork propped up against the wall, but that was it. It felt temporary and personal all at the same time, like he was stuck between settling down and being prepared to leave at any moment. He'd apologised for the boxes as he let me in, beginning to explain and then stopping mid-way, shrugging as though there was no need for further elaboration. I waited for him to close the door, following behind him precariously as he flicked on the lights and threw his keys down on the shelf as he passed it. He waved a hand towards one of the couches and I'd sat down carefully, watching him as he joined me, my eyes then drifting to the books I desperately wanted to rummage through.

"I spoke with Carlisle. Sort of," he said.

"What did he say?" I asked distantly, slowly pulling my gaze away from the shelf and back to him.

"Nothing, more or less. He... he told me to go on a vacation," he said.

"Huh?" I mumbled, staring at the paintings that weren't hanging, wondering if I could recognise some of the work.

Oh, it was all terribly important and dramatic, the fate of our relationship hanging over our heads and all that, but right now, I wanted to see what his bedroom looked like.

"Bella," Edward said, trying to get my attention. "Do you want a tour?" He asked, perplexed.

"What? No, I'm listening. Carlisle and vacation, yeah," I said, trying to sound informed. Now embarrassed, I sat up straight and looked directly at Edward, reminding myself that this actually_ was _of consequence.

He eyed me for a moment and then continued. "Yes, vacation. Carlisle wants me to take a _vacation_. That is... not normal. I tried to bring up that night, I tried to bring up you, but all he did was talk about numbers, projections, business. I don't think he listened to anything I was saying. He said that he doesn't need me right now, and that was it, 'Go take a vacation,' and then he was done," he said, his eyes wandering, searching aimlessly.

"Was he being nice?" I offered.

"No," Edward snorted. "He was pacifying me, talking to me like I was a kid in dire need of a time-out," he said.

"Oh," I said quietly.

"He's trying to get rid of me," he said, rubbing his face. "I didn't see this coming," he muttered.

"But aren't you, you know, heir to the throne?" I asked, a little too sarcastically.

Edward shot me a sideways glance and I quickly tried to recover. "I just mean, aren't you the only one he's willing to leave things to? Aren't you his only choice?" I asked.

"I thought so," was all he said, distracted now, staring at his hands.

"Well, would it be the worst thing?" I asked. "Would it be so bad if you didn't have to worry about any of that anymore?"

"I'm supposed to fix things. I'm supposed to help. All of those people who've worked for him, everyone who... my mother, Charlie, you, everything you're owed, everything that he's ruined. I was supposed to fix it." The last of his words practically a whisper, seeming to sink with his heart. He rubbed his face again, staring into nothing.

"Hey," I said, trying to meet his gaze. "Charlie and I, we're fine. We've made it this far. And I'd bet anything that Esme is just happy that you turned out this great. You can still help her, you'll find another way," I tried.

I inched closer, curling up beside him, resting my head on his shoulder and placing my hand on his chest. "Come on, smile, I'm not good at pep-talks," I said, laughing softly, looking up to search his face. Edward smiled weakly.

"Look at it this way," I tried again. "We've done pretty well so far, haven't we? We're here now," I said.

Edward brought a hand to his chest and wrapped it around mine. "Did you talk to Charlie?" He asked, his voice sounding normal again.

"No," I scoffed. "I completely chickened out."

Edward laughed quietly and without humour. I wondered what delusional world I was living in, who this optimistic, pep-talk-giving person I seemed to be portraying was. I was just settling on the conclusion of severe denial being the culprit when I heard him sigh and he turned his head towards me.

"You can go look at my books now," he said, almost matter-of-factly. I grinned and jumped off the couch, bouncing over to the shelf. My hands were instantly itching to organise them alphabetically as I searched the titles, scanning and compiling a list in my head of the ones I'd already read.I felt Edward behind me and smiled.

"Anything you want to borrow?" He asked, slowly pushing my hair to one side and exposing my neck. He lowered his head and I felt his lips brush past my skin. "Or have you read them all?" He asked, now kissing up my neck carefully, his teeth lightly biting my earlobe. I shivered and shifted back into him, his hand snaking under my shirt and around my waist. He pulled me back into him, pressing me against him. His hand felt electric on my bare stomach as he kissed my neck with more fervor, his tongue tracing small circles, his teeth teasing me relentlessly. A small moan came out of me and in an instant he'd spun me around to face him, his hand still under my shirt, pressing into my lower back.

He had me against his body in an almost vice-like grip, and still, I wanted more. I was doing my best not to heave as he brought a finger to my lips, tracing around them slowly. He held my chin in his hand and looked directly into my eyes, then down at my mouth, then down at my chest that was, in fact, heaving. I could feel his breath quickening with mine as he let his hand slide down from my face to my neck, slowly past my chest and around my back, where he pushed it under my shirt to meet his other hand. Unable to take much more, I reached my arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pushing myself against him as our lips crushed together. My body was involuntarily grinding against his, and I felt the arms around my waist moving to my hips, his fingers pressing into my skin.

As our tongues moved, his hands urgently slid down my thighs and he hiked me up on to his hips in one movement. I let my legs wrap around him, and I felt us moving but didn't register the thought; not until he was lowering me on to the couch we had just been sitting on. His body was perfectly flush with mine, and I didn't feel crushed or trapped being under him with his weight on top of me, just incredible warmth. While I felt his fingers tangling in my hair and pulling softly, I tried to figure out how I'd gotten here. His lips were moving along my collar bone, every so often dipping down to my chest and then back to my neck. It seemed, to me, like I was coming in and out of consciousness, though I knew my body was reacting as though I were fully present. I wasn't. Things were coming at me in waves, like a staggering film reel. My hands slid under his shirt, pressing into his back, searching for his skin, for him. He was the anchor, and he was making me drown. Consumption, this was it. When I could stay focused enough to feel him, to reach for his body and hold on to it, I felt safe and entirely in the moment, but when I let go, when I drifted, I would slip away. I wanted to crawl inside his chest and never leave, I wanted to very well allow him to violently consume me, exactly what I was afraid of. I was inexplicably feeling and breathing and more alive than I'd ever been. This, I didn't know how to reconcile, this was something that was new to me, this lucidity.

Before I could panic, his mouth was on mine again. I writhed underneath him and I heard him moan as I felt his body suddenly become heavier. I realised he'd been balancing his weight on top of me, but was now willingly pressing harder into me.

"Bella," he whispered against my mouth. It sounded almost pained, and I noticed that Edward still wasn't touching me, touching me like I wanted him to. I knew he was afraid, I knew he was holding back despite my promises.

I bit his bottom lip and thrust my hips into his, tightening my legs around him. I could feel him against me, how hard he was, aroused just as much as I was. My own movements backfired on me, as the new closeness with which he was rubbing against me overwhelmed me. The heat, this kind of desire, this intense of a need to feel one person felt like a fist wrapping around my heart. I suppressed a whimper when Edward's hand moved from my hair to my stomach, slipping under my shirt and resting just under my breasts. I was going to drift away again.

I fought the urge to dig my nails into his back to find him again, and instead, I decided, would settle for begging.

"Please, Edward," I murmured, my voice cracking, the words trying to find their way out of my mouth but only finding his. They were getting lost inside him, just like I was.

My body flinched slightly and I did whimper this time, and in an instant, he'd peeled himself off of me, creating a space between our bodies and propping himself up with his arms. "Are you okay?" He asked quickly, staring down at me.

I took a deep breath as I looked at his swollen lips, his dazed yet worried expression. I felt safe again, though my heart was fluttering impatiently, urging me to take him in again. I wasn't sure what I had been trying to do anymore, but I figured it was just as well we stopped. I reached up and touched his face softly, trying to memorize what it felt like, trying to create a balance between want and need.

"I'm okay," I said quietly, letting my hand drop limply. "I think I just need to breathe," I added.

Edward eyed me carefully and then pulled himself off of me, standing and reaching towards me. My body instantly missed him, suddenly cold and foreign. I remained where I was, in defeat, afraid to stand. He smiled despite the confusion on his face and bent back down, slipping his arms under me and pulling me up to stand with him. Back in his arms, I felt the warmth again and found relief, but my legs soon betrayed me by not doing their job, seemingly unable to support me. Were my knees actually weak? I vacillated between nausea and butterflies while Edward tried to suppress a laugh as my body continued to melt. He steadied me, holding me tighter so I wouldn't falter again.

"All right?" He asked, as I finally seemed to find my footing.

"Yes," I muttered, my cheeks flushing.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, still not letting go. He studied my face as I chose not to answer.

"Can I use your bathroom?" I asked, not only changing the subject, but actually now wondering what I looked like.

"Of course, it's this way," he said, releasing me carefully, but keeping his arms outstretched, just in case. When he found me stable, he turned and I followed him out of his living room and down a short hallway.

"Right here," he said, motioning towards the door.

"Thanks," I said, quickly slipping in as he made his way back from where we came.

I closed and locked the door, turning to face myself in the mirror. I cringed. My lips were swollen, my cheeks flushed, my hair... well, I didn't know what my hair was. I turned on the faucet and ran my hands under the cold water. I splashed it on my face, feeling it cool my skin. I took in along breath, and looked at myself again. I smoothed out my hair and sighed. I'd get a handle on this, eventually. I'd be able to find the happy medium between healthily wanting Edward and carelessly resigning to any and every desire he created inside of me. I would if it killed me.

Feeling considerably more normal, I left the bathroom and headed towards the living room, avoiding the urge to peek in the door that was slightly ajar, the door I knew led to his bedroom.

Edward was sitting on the couch, looking at a piece of paper he was carefully holding. He turned when he heard me, slipping the paper into his wallet and smiling weakly.

"It's so late," he commented absently as he stood.

I nodded and watched him walk to the shelf, grabbing his keys and then moving towards me.

"I'm going to take you home now," he said, leaning down and kissing the top of my head. "Because if I don't, I'll just take you to my bed."

******

I sighed audibly knowing I was alone, flicked off the lights and grabbed my keys. The last time I closed down Swan's, Edward was waiting for me. Not tonight, tonight I was going straight home. I wished I'd find his ridiculous car parked outside, my personal chariot, but alas. It was late, as always, and I couldn't expect him to just always be around at two o'clock in the morning. I sighed again, this time wishing for a different job.

I locked up, double-checking the knob twice. It had been a slow night, and the empty street was another reminder. As such, my ears rapidly perked up at the sound of the nondescript shuffling that seemed eerily close. My head shot up, but still, the street was deserted. I quickly looked behind me, but saw nothing. I froze, waiting. The wind pushed itself around me as I pulled my coat tightly shut. I checked my surroundings once more, shivering. My paranoia was getting out of hand. I shook my head and started walking, briskly, to my car.

As I was pulling out of the lot, a thought suddenly hit me._ I forgot to set the alarm._ I groaned, rolling my eyes. I wrenched the wheel back around, turning in the direction of the bar. I would just pull up in front and run in and out, no need to park again.

I got out quickly, already holding the right key. I just wanted to go home. I pushed the key into the lock, realising, as I pulled open the door and stepped inside, that it had already been unlocked.

I stood a few steps in the doorway, completely frozen. I didn't move, couldn't move. I stood there, motionless, stupidly paralyzed. My mind went blank. Before every part of me had the chance to start raging, screaming at me to run, I felt a large hand cover my mouth and another across my chest, holding my arms tightly against my sides. I instantly began to struggle.

"Stop. Don't scream," he imploringly whispered in my ear.

All I wanted to do was scream. I did, but the hand clamped around my face muffled my voice into nonexistence. So instead, I bit his hand with all the force I could find in my body. He let go instinctively, yelling out in pain. I pushed his heavy arm off of my chest, and I ran.

I ran blindly, stumbling through the doorway and pushing the door as hard as I could, hoping it would shut, hoping it would buy me time. I never found out, because I know I made it to my car, though I couldn't remember getting inside. When my brain finally started to get back in tune with my body, I was clutching the steering wheel and hitting the gas like it was the last thing I'd ever do. I could hear myself hyperventilating, I could feel the wetness on my face, but I kept driving. I was unhinging, and fast. How did he get inside? What was he doing? Why? I could still smell him, taste him. I rolled down the window hastily and spit, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I felt the cold air drying my cheeks, seeping quickly into my lungs from my accelerated breathing. My heart was about to beat its way outside of my body.

None of my thoughts made sense, they followed no order, only slamming back and forth inside of my head uselessly. I tried to piece together what I could. The door was unlocked, but I know I locked it. My keys were with me, I started my car, after all. No one else has keys, no one but Charlie. Charlie and Alice. Alice? Alice lost her keys. I shoved my hand in my pocket, reaching for my phone. I hit the speed dial, praying Alice would wake up, wake up and answer.

"Hello?" I could barely hear her. I sighed in relief.

"Alice, where are you?" I asked impatiently.

"Angela's having a party at the dorms, you should co-"

"Don't go home, okay? Stay with Angela tonight," I said loudly.

"What? I can barely hear you, Bella!"

"Do not go home, Alice," I said again, practically yelling.

"I'm staying here tonight, I can't drive like this," she laughed, and then stopped suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's okay. I'll call you tomorrow, all right?" I hung up and threw my phone on the passenger's seat, unable to continue focusing on driving and simultaneously talking to a drunken Alice in the state I was in. As long as she was safe for tonight, I would deal with everything else later. As the steering wheel became increasingly harder to hold on to, I noticed I had begun to shiver, reminding me I was incredibly cold and extremely tired. I was going into shock. I just had to make it, I just needed to make it to... where?

I was already driving there before I actually knew where I was going. I had to see him. I had to see Edward. Everything inside of me was asking for safety, and he was the only answer there was.

**Author's Note:** Hmm. Sometimes I wonder if the things I write and the reasons I write them in the way that I do come off as they are supposed to. Or in any case, create the proper feeling. Welcome to the masochistic hell that is writing, I guess. Well, let's just say, if you think you are finding subtext or there seems to be more meaning beyond what you are literally reading, you will almost always be right. Anyway, I want to recommend this story: .net/s/5484770/1/Jigsaw_Terrace I really like it, so I hope you read it. And review it, goddamnit.


	14. My Boy Builds Coffins

**Chapter 14: My Boy Builds Coffins**

_Bella:_

My closed fist banged on his door with markedly more force than I'd intended. I pulled my hand back, suddenly feeling impossibly ridiculous. For all of my fear, all of the certainty that had brought me here, all it seemed I wanted to do now was shrink away until I was merely a thoughtless speck.

Had someone not been leaving his apartment building when I happened to be making a run for the door, had I needed to be buzzed up, maybe I would've had the good sense to get back in my car. If the elevator doors hadn't been open, seemingly waiting for me to enter, perhaps I'd already be home by now. One way or the other, I'd either had an excellent or horrendous stroke of luck.

I bit into the back of my still clenched fist, anticipating the proverbial blow. I stepped back and I waited, hoping he was in a deep enough sleep to not have heard my intrusive knocking. I waited, thinking that if I had woken him, then I'd be sure to be standing here when he opened the door. Had I not, I'd walk away, straight away. Though I knew every fear I had seemed legitimate, actually _was_ legitimate, I was brimming with shame, embarrassment, wishing I wasn't this helpless creature full of needs and weakness. I didn't want him to see me like this. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, ripping my hair out with every new octave I reached. Was he going to wonder why I didn't call the police instead of running straight to him? Would he be annoyed that I'd woken him at this ungodly hour over something he could do nothing about? Should I lie?

I heard the familiar sound of an unhinging lock. Too late. How long had I been standing here? Time to lie. The door swung open slowly and a shirtless Edward squinted out into the well-lit hallway. My eyes shamelessly scanned over his body; his bare chest, the still reddened scar that marked his perfectly formed abdomen, the permanent etching of our first meeting. Every potential lie evaporated as I dropped my fist from my mouth.

"Bella?" He asked, still shaking the sleep from his voice, quickly sweeping a hand through his hair when the recognition seemed to reform his expression.

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again, biting my lip painfully, trying to stop the moisture I could feel stirring in my eyes. I looked down at my fidgeting hands.

Edward shook his head, fully awake now, suddenly self-conscious but stricken with worry. He stepped out into the hallway and grabbed my face with both of his hands, forcing me to look up at him.

"What's wrong? What happened to you?" He pressed, his voice stern and fully present now.

"I..." My voice traitorously cracked, so I promptly shut my mouth once again, wondering how bad I looked to make him so easily gauge the severity of my panicked state.

He shook his head again, closing his eyes. "Okay, okay, it's okay," he repeated softly, pulling my limp frame against his chest and running a hand through my hair.

"Come on. Inside," he said, pulling me in the doorway.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered as he flicked on the light and turned back to me.

"No, don't do that," he said, brushing my hair behind my ear. I preemptively rubbed my eyes, hoping to eradicate any of the forming tears I could still feel threatening to escape.

"I'm just going to..." Edward trailed off as he looked down at his own chest. "I'll be right back. Sit down," he said, aiming me at the couch. I listlessly floated there, letting my body drop.

Edward reappeared just as quickly as he'd left, zipping up his sweatshirt as he came to join me. I recognised the hoodie I'd brought him that first night, when I'd gone to the hospital to see him. The parallels of the two occurrences were not lost on me as I absently wondered what Charlie would think if he knew I'd given Edward one of the old sweaters he'd left at the bar. The exhaustion mingling with the lingering waves of shock still passing through me were not exactly creating the best thought process.

"Bella," he said as he moved closer to me on the couch. "What-" He stopped himself and sighed. "Please tell me?"

"I'm sorry I came here. I don't know why I..." I shook my head, giving up on the regret. "I was working. I was leaving and then I realised I forgot to set the alarm. I went back in but there was... there was someone there. He grabbed me and I ran but I-I'm... I don't know," I spurted out.

Edward's eyes widened and I could see endless questions forming in his head, confusion and anger overwhelming his features. "How? Who? Did he hurt you?" His words flew out of his mouth frantically as he searched my face.

I sighed, and began to try answering the questions in order. "I locked the door. I know I locked the door. But it was unlocked before I went in- I didn't realise, I didn't... I think he found Alice's keys, copied them or... something. I'm not hurt, I don't think he was trying to, I mean, he didn't hurt me," I said, unable to form sentences, trying to decipher the aforementioned events as they came out of my mouth.

Edward furrowed his brow, staring at the floor. "And Alice-"

I interrupted. "I called her. She's not at home. She's safe, I mean."

His gaze moved back up quickly and settled on my eyes once more. "Who?" He asked again.

"I didn't see. I'm not sure," I said quietly.

"Bella. Who?"

"I... it felt like- he smelled like Jacob," I said in a whisper.

Edward reacted exactly like I was fearing he would, his fist clenching angrily, his eyes suddenly black and endlessly dark. If I didn't know those eyes, if I wasn't absolutely sure that everything inside him was so unequivocally pure and right and _good_, I would have been afraid of him. I reached for his hand, squeezing it firmly, trying to bring him back to me.

"Please, don't do anything. I was scared, Edward, and I came here because I just, well, you make me feel so safe. I know I should have done a million other things, but you were all I could think of. Please just be here," I said, realising he probably wouldn't know what I meant.

He looked at me quizzically and then his expression softened. "I'm here. I'm here, Bella," he said as he pulled me into his chest, putting his arms around me and holding me there.

I breathed him in, _his _smell, letting his scent wash down my lungs, erasing the last traces of whatever remained, of any lingering memory the night could have left behind. And finally, finally, I gave into the exhaustion that was enveloping me, the sleep that I ached for. I closed my eyes, safe at last.

******

I wasn't sure if I'd opened my eyes, if I was dreaming, but I felt my body moving, floating. I kept my eyes closed when I realised that Edward was carrying me, his hand around my waist, my legs hanging over his arm, my own arm draped around his neck. As lucidity began to creep around my head, I felt him lowering me carefully, slipping his arms out from under me. My body eased into the softness around me as I felt my shoes being pulled off my feet, and it occurred to me that I was in his bed. I opened my eyes quickly, wanting to make sure. Edward smiled as he leaned over me, kissing my forehead.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. He grabbed one of the pillows beside my head, I assumed, for himself and the couch, and held it under his arm, pulling a blanket over me. As he turned to leave, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"Stay with me?" I asked quietly.

Edward pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He hesitated for a moment, but then crawled over me, placing the pillow beside my head and laying down on his back. He turned his head to look at me while I watched his chest rise and fall emphatically. I propped myself up on my elbow, moving the blanket out from under him and pulling it over his body and around the both of us. I shifted closer and he lifted his arm so I could curl up beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. His hand ran in circles on my back, easing my body effortlessly. He shifted slightly, his hand carefully brushing across my cheek as he closed his eyes and kissed my lips with an unbearable softness. I felt him take in a sharp breath as I slowly unzipped his sweater and let it fall open. I traced my fingers down his chest, reaching across his waist to hold onto him; wanting, needing, to feel his skin.

He flinched when my hand grazed over the now raised skin of his very fresh scar, so I carefully rested my palm against it and waited for him relax. "Does it still hurt?" I asked.

"Not at the moment," Edward said.

Leaving my hand where it was, I smiled. I stopped stirring then, his warmth was everything I was looking for and it calmed me instantly. His body relaxed further as he pressed me closer against him, sighing contentedly. I closed my eyes again, too serene to even consider any other options. Sleep came in the rhythm of his beating heart, the sound of his breathing, the inexplicable comfort of just being; in his bed, in his arms, his.

******

I leaned myself against the wall lazily and crossed my arms. I was more than well-rested, but standing here watching the locksmith change Alice's deadbolt wasn't the most thrilling thing I could be doing. It was far from it, in fact, and if I was going to be thinking about thrills, back in Edward's bed was where I wanted to be.

Waking up next to him was, embarrassingly enough, a lot like Christmas morning. My stomach had instantly filled with butterflies as soon as I became aware of my surroundings. I closed my eyes and tried to drift back to this morning, which already seemed too painfully far away, but was distracted by Alice's groggy voice.

"Um... Bella?" She asked.

I pulled myself off the wall and tried to smile. It was a useless effort on my part, her face changing from confusion to annoyance. "What now?" She groaned.

"We had to change our locks, " I said through gritted teeth, eyeing the locksmith. Sure, I'd lied and said it was my apartment, but I hadn't wanted Alice to go through more trouble, all because of me.

Thankfully, Alice, though hung-over, caught on quickly. "Right," she said, her tone flat.

"All done here," he said as he stood, gathering his tools. "We'll send you the bill," he said, placing the new key in my open palm.

As he walked down the hall, I turned back to Alice. "I'll pay that," I said, handing her the key.

She rolled her eyes. "Explain," she said, dragging her feet through her open door, me following closely behind.

"There was someone in the bar last night," I said.

Alice shot her head up quickly as she threw herself down on her couch. "What?"

"The door was already unlocked, so I thought maybe they had a key, and since you lost yours, I mean, better safe than sorry," I mumbled.

"That was what last night was about? Wait, were you inside? Bella, I'm so sorry, I-"

"I think it was Jacob," I said quickly, interrupting her apology. It didn't matter. I was just thankful that I had her to tell, that I could perhaps try to figure things out. It just wasn't the kind of thing I could really do with Edward, biased as he was, in a much different way than Alice.

She remained silent, ready for my explanation. "It smelled like him, I guess it even felt like him," I said as I sat down next to her. She nodded, worry creasing her forehead.

"He didn't hurt me. He wasn't trying, I don't think. He grabbed me and he told me not to scream, but everything went so fast. I ran away, but I think, Alice, if he wanted to stop me, he could have," I said, thinking aloud.

"But why? What would he be doing... are you sure it was him?" She asked.

"I'm pretty sure," I said, staring at my hands.

"Did you call the police?"

"No. And I told Charlie someone broke in, so he's having the locks changed. That's all he knows. He can't find out, Alice," I said, looking at her sternly.

"Why?"

"He can't know. He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need anything else to- he just can't know," I said, giving up.

"Bella, listen to yourself. This is crazy, and it's gone way too far. Actually, it was already too far the first time he did that to you. This has to stop. You're not making sense anymore, don't you see that?" She asked frantically.

I wanted to agree with her, because I didn't think I was making sense anymore either. Still, I felt like I needed to hold together whatever was left of my life, whatever was left of Charlie. I was trying not to put too much thought into the fact that I was actually _used_ to this, used to fear and problem after never-ending problem. I was numb to it now, almost unimpressed with my own reactions and how quickly they faded. No, not too much thought was going into all that.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry for everything, Alice. I didn't want to drag you into any of this," I said, standing and turning towards the door. I needed to get out.

She stood, rubbing her face in exasperation. "I'm going to tell Charlie if you don't," she called after me.

I turned and looked her directly in the eyes. "No, you won't," I said, quickly shutting the door behind me. If Alice was one thing, it was loyal. I was almost positive she wouldn't betray me, knowing, as she did, what I'd go through if Charlie found out about things in the wrong way. I trusted that she knew I had to handle this on my own, I had to trust that.

When I got to my car, I was hit with a wave of severely unwanted reality. My brain forced me to take an objective look at everything that was in front of me, happening _to_ me, no longer something I could just watch from the outside like I'd come so accustomed to doing. I had a secret boyfriend that I couldn't get up the courage to tell my father about, I was actually afraid for my safety on a daily basis because of an unstable... well, whatever Jacob was, and I had just shut out my amazing best friend, who was only trying to help. Faced with the guilt of tearing apart the tiny family that was Charlie and I, destroying the little life I'd created for myself, I wondered what it was all worth.

And there he was, reverberating in my head. _Edward. _When I took him out of the picture, I certainly did seem crazy, even to myself. But as soon as I factored him in, as soon as he became the reason, it appeared crazier _not _to put myself through anything I had to endure if he was going to be waiting for me at the end of it all. I started to contemplate what new level of insanity I'd reached, but I fell short. I knew, I already knew exactly what it was. I was falling in love with him, and it was going to hurt.

While I began to entertain this new terror, I decided to let the image of his face calm me. I allowed the memory of this morning to take me back to the place inside of me where it all made perfect sense. I thought of the way he'd squeezed me lightly when he'd woken up, still holding me from the night. I imagined him looking down at me, smiling silently as he carefully touched my face, almost like he was making sure I was real.

"Are you okay?" The first thing he'd asked, searching my eyes intently.

I had nodded instantly. I shouldn't have been okay, I really wasn't okay, but in that moment, all I felt was perfect.

I heard his voice so clearly in my head. "I don't want you to leave," he'd said as I sat up on the edge of his bed. He grabbed my waist, pulling me back into bed and away from my, admittedly, very half-hearted escape attempt.

"I really should go," was all I had come up with, my resolve easily breaking at the sensation of him holding me against his chest, his heart beating against my back.

I remembered sighing and peeling his arms off me, trying, with every bit of energy I had, to leave our bubble and take care of everything I knew I needed to.

I felt my stomach churn at the memory of finally leaving his bed, only to be faced with more temptation. I almost laughed at the thought of myself fumbling to get my shoes on while he stood, watching me.

"You can shower here," he said as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and pulled me against his body. He wrapped his hand around my waist to hold me in place, and with the other started to unbutton my shirt slowly.

"You're going to be the death of me," I groaned, squirming away and buttoning my shirt back up quickly, heading for the the hall.

"I'll make you breakfast," Edward offered, following closely behind me.

"I'm leaving," I said, not daring to turn around and look at that face, the one that would make me stay.

"I have coffee," he said. "And tea," he added, remembering my preferred drink.

I chuckled quietly, reaching for my keys, which I guessed he'd placed on the shelf next to his.

"You can have all my books," he said, laughing now at his own method of bribery.

I turned to face him in spite of myself and smiled. "Thank you. For everything," I said, diving into his chest and hugging him tightly. He rested his chin on the top of my head and let me squeeze him as hard as I could.

"Anything, Bella, anything you need," he said quietly.

I pulled myself away before it would be too late, looking up at him solemnly. "I really do have to go," I said.

"I know," he nodded, a quiet sadness overtaking his expression, joining me in reality and remembering the reason I was there in the first place.

After he'd made sure I wasn't going to be anywhere alone for too long at any point in my day, he'd excessively reiterated, as I was leaving, to call him the second I needed anything. He asked if the bar would be open, if I would be working, without bringing up the night before. I assured him that while I _would_ be working, after I explained to Charlie that we'd had a break in, the bar would be an impenetrable force before I could even finish my sentence. That seemed to appease him. I knew he was trying to tell me that he'd be there the instant I needed to be protected, and as tempting at it did sound, I was trying not to need Edward so ferociously this early on. So, I nodded and promised, despite knowing I was going to do my best not to run to him every time I got into trouble. Still, I appreciated the way he made himself available without pushing it, without dragging every detail out of me, no strings attached.

"I'll be there when you're done your shift," he'd said, kissing my temple as we parted ways.

And now, as I drove to the bar, all I could do was stupidly anticipate the moment work would end, the moment that meant Edward was near once again. I sighed, rolling my eyes at myself. He really was going to be the end of me, and I was in trouble, I was in _every_ kind of trouble.


	15. Crimson And Clover

**Chapter 15: Crimson And Clover**

_Edward:_

My morning had started off perfectly, but with Bella now gone, I'd have to find something to fill my time between now and the end of her shift at Swan's. Having her wake up next to me in my bed had been overwhelming, and while I wished it was for another reason, any reason but _him_, I was reeling nonetheless.

I tried to stop imagining Bella through every step of my morning, I tried not to see her smile while I drank my coffee, I resisted remembering exactly what her touch felt like against my chest while I got dressed, but it was all futile. She was just there, constantly with me, wherever I was.

Comforting as this idea was, I was going to go stir-crazy very quickly. This "vacation" that Carlisle had, I assumed, decided to punish me with was not something I was used to. Though I'd milled about the best I could, wasting time until I could see Bella again, I was running out of things to do. The day had passed painfully slowly, the evening taking its time to arrive. I had a good couple of hours to kill before I could be waiting outside for her. I was going to get there long before she was done her shift, I wanted to be there, to watch, to make sure she was all right. I'd told her earlier not to come outside until she saw me, that I would be there, that she'd be safe. I'd wait however long I had to, and though I'd already convinced myself multiple times to not already show up, it was becoming a tempting idea again, and I knew Bella wouldn't like it. I had to find something to do, so I figured I had two options. Find Jacob and finish what I'd started, or try and speak with my father again. It didn't take me long to decide that, tempting as it was, the former would get me into trouble. So the latter it was to be. This time, I would make Carlisle hear me out one way or the other, whether he was willing to listen or not.

I was very intentionally avoiding any further thoughts on Jacob and what he'd done to Bella. I was holding on tightly to the idea that she'd said she wasn't _sure _it had been him. I didn't know how true that was, and honestly, I was afraid to ask her. But that sliver of doubt, that tiny crack, was the only thing saving him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just waiting, just looking for an opportunity for my fist to be reacquainted with his face. Alas, not today.

******

Pulling into Carlisle's lot filled me with dread and apprehension. The sight of my childhood home didn't flood me with good memories or happy thoughts. Instead I felt darkness, and cold as it was, the house may as well have been empty.

I sat still in my car, trying to gather my thoughts, searching for what, exactly, I was going to say. I didn't actually know what it would take to make things right, but I had to try. To my own surprise, I learned I was more willing to let go of all I'd worked for than I'd once been. What worried me now was the simple fact that I did not trust Carlisle in any way. Knowing now, whatever it was that he knew about Bella and I, that he was very well capable of anything. If he'd so easily betrayed Charlie, then I'm sure his own son wasn't too far off on the list of possible enemies. If all he saw when he looked at Bella was _Swan_, then I was far more worried about her than anything else.

I glanced at the car I'd parked next to, wondering if I'd have to make an appointment to see my own father. It was already night, but I wouldn't be all that surprised to find that Carlisle preferred to handle business in the dark. I didn't recognise the car as belonging to anyone I knew, and it looked a little bit run down for someone that Carlisle would be willing to associate with. I shook my head, catching myself in my own attempt to stall with arbitrary distractions. I took a breath and got out of my car, and headed towards the path that led to the house.

I slowed my gait when I heard the front door open, wondering if I could catch a glimpse of who was leaving before they saw me. I moved back over to the right, out of the direct path of the door. I froze into a full stop as I watched Jacob coming out of the house, about to make his way down the small set of stone steps leading down to the path. I narrowed my eyes. Yes, I was sure it was him.

I could feel the heat rising, the blood boiling violently under my skin. My heart began to pound harder as my fists seemed to involuntarily clench. I tried to breathe, tried to find some semblance of control, but it seemed futile. I had instantly been overtaken by rage and what felt like pure hatred, like some sort of rabid animal was trying to crawl out of me. I wanted to scream at the image of Bella that kept popping into my head, force it to go away; his arms around her, his body on top of hers, crushing her, hurting her. I was already shaking from the revulsion, so I attempted to breathe, searching for the calm that the air was supposed to bring with it. It did not come.

Instead I was focusing on watching Jacob intently, watching him turn back and reach his hand out. It seemed like the universe was trying to give me an opportunity to come to my senses and leave before it was too late, giving me a window to escape out of. The idea seemed to be somewhere, floating around in my head like a temperamental wind, but much like air, it was all too intangible to hold on to. And so off it went, away with any other common sense I prided myself on having. Whoever it was that was talking to Jacob now was obscured by the open door, but I could see an envelope being placed in his outstretched hand. As he shoved it into his pocket, the filthy grin I watched form and begin creeping up his face was the last nail in his coffin.

I didn't bother to try and see who was at the door as it began to close, if it was Carlisle or not, I was too busy letting my coat fall to the floor as I started to run angrily up the path. Before Jacob had even turned around, I was behind him, but the_ "I"_ I'd been used to referring to was no longer present. Something else had found its way out, something sinister. I considered it a trait I'd gained from Carlisle as I grabbed the back of Jacob's shirt and threw him down the steps, watching him land on the ground. His face was etched with surprise and then, upon recognition, an anger that could have rivaled my own. Could have, but did not.

I stormed down the stairs towards him as he pulled himself off the ground, his face contorting as his fists clenched.

"What are you doing here?" My voice came out in a hoarse and menacing whisper, and it was a voice I didn't recognise.

Before he had a chance to answer, I repeated the question as I lunged forward and shoved him back, sending him stumbling to the ground once again. Now out of view from the front of the house, I felt myself become even more out of control. I waited as he stood, waited for an answer, my chest heaving, my own fists now clenched painfully.

Not surprisingly, I didn't get one, and instead, he flew at me forcefully. Rather than moving out of the way, I lunged right back, my shoulder crashing into his chest and pushing him further back. I swung at him, my fist smashing into his jaw as I brought around my other arm and rammed my fist into his ribs. I heard the wind knocking right out of his lungs as he punched me in the eye, the blow splitting the skin under my eyebrow, hot blood dripping down the side of my face.

Fair enough, I thought, as I watched him spit out his own blood. I returned the favour and heard the crunching of bone as my fist made contact with his nose, more blood instantly pouring out of his face. I wasn't sure what had broken, my hand or his face, but it didn't much matter. I was crazed and, indeed, rabid. When he swung at me again, my own jaw taking the hit, I grinned hugely, maniacally; tasting the blood, feeling it pool in my mouth and seep around my teeth. As I spit and wiped off the blood dripping out of my lips, I saw Jacob, for the tiniest moment, begin to hesitate.

I only squared my stance, waiting for his next move. The adrenaline coursing throughout my body was making me feel elated, like this was what I'd been hoping for. I didn't feel tired, there was no pain or lack of energy. In fact, the only emotion I could recognise was relief, an immense release of anger over every single affront; from the hate I was now harboring towards Carlisle to the frustration of everything I knew I felt too strongly for Bella. It was leaving my body right through my fists, and Jacob was an exceptional punching bag. It didn't bother me, the pain I'd feel tomorrow, the battered appearance I'd now have to carry with me. It was all just as well. Now everyone could see exactly how I was feeling right on my face; every bruise, every break, every bleeding wound had now just moved to the outside.

Bravely, Jacob rushed at me again, hitting me in the stomach. I laughed as I doubled over, the air choking out of my throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jacob yelled. "You think this is funny?" He said as he shoved me to the ground with all of his force, my shoulder skidding into the pavement with an audible thud.

Regardless, I was now in hysterics, practically cackling as I propped myself up to look at him. He eased off momentarily, assuming I was no longer a threat, laying on the ground, unhinged as I was. And maybe he was right, not that it mattered anymore, I was so far gone that none of it mattered. I almost envied him-no, in fact, I _did_ envy him. Here I was, obviously losing it, and there he was, so solid in his own delusions. I don't know why I didn't see it so clearly before, but it had, quite literally, hit me, for some reason, when he had punched me in the stomach not 2 minutes before. Perhaps the extra push of air brought with it some clarity. I didn't care how, but now I knew.

Now, slightly calmer, I was able to speak. "You love her, don't you?" I said through a laugh. "You actually love her." I almost snorted as I wiped more blood off my face.

Jacob stared down at me in complete disgust, but I could still see it. I could see the tinge of shame as I continued to laugh at him.

"That's it, isn't it?" I carried on. "That's _all _of it, isn't it? Are you saving her? Protecting her from me? From the evil Cullens? Look where you are!" I said, rolling onto my back, chuckling again, completely insane. And there was the envy again. Oh, how I wished to be Jacob. But this time, it was for Bella. To know her from the start, no last names in the way, no, nothing in the way. But I wouldn't make the mistake he did. I would never make that mistake.

"You're sick. You messed it up," I said, grinning while I pointed at him.

"Shut up," he said through gritted teeth. "Shut up!" He yelled again, kicking me in the ribs not once, but twice in a row, with impressive strength. This time, I knew the cracking I heard was certainly coming from me. I winced and coughed violently, sitting up and letting my smile remain plastered on my damaged face.

I could see him preparing for me to stand, but I didn't bother. Instead, I just stared at him. In an attempt, probably, to intimidate me, Jacob knelt down, getting close to my face. I could now see his nose was broken, which only pleased me further.

"She'll never love you," he said through his clenched jaw. "She doesn't have it in her."

I cocked my head to the side, suddenly very intrigued.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated my original question. "Why were you at the bar last night?" I added, figuring this way, I'd know for sure.

Jacob laughed and stared off towards the house. "I can tell you one thing," he said. "Your father won't let you do it."

"And what's that?" I asked, wondering what, exactly, he knew.

Jacob shrugged, smirking. "Doesn't matter. In the end, you'll never have Bella."

I searched his face calmly. He was starting to look smug, which I found repulsive. I pictured his arms around her again, and I could taste the acid in my mouth.

"Me, on the other hand..." Jacob trailed off and licked his lips revoltingly.

I was on my feet instantaneously, and grabbing him by his collar, I dragged him with me towards the house, and with all the strength I had left, rammed his back against the brick wall. I kneed him in the stomach, and while he was still gasping for air, I leaned my arm against his throat, letting him struggle.

"If you ever touch Bella again, I will kill you," I whispered, feeling another hysterical smile pushing at the corners of my mouth. When his face started to turn a slight shade of blue, I let him drop to the floor, gasping for air.

******

Once again, I sat in my car, trying to collect my thoughts into something that resembled sense. I was parked across the street from Swan's waiting for Bella, watching every single person that walked by, always glancing at the window to make sure she was where she was supposed to be, safe behind the counter.

By all other standards, I was incredibly early, but not nearly as early as I'd wanted to be. Jacob had wasted more time than the expected amount I'd allotted for Carlisle. As far as I was concerned, I was late, and I while I was fairly certain I'd gotten here before Jacob could have, that didn't much ease my paranoia.

My body was starting to betray me, the aches now becoming pain, the pain soon becoming unbearable. It hurt to move my face in any way, the open wound above my eye beginning to sting more and more, the swelling making it difficult to see. My jaw was throbbing, the cuts on the inside of my mouth created by my own teeth still bleeding. It was getting increasingly painful and more difficult to breathe, which I knew were symptoms of my cracked ribs. They'd heal on their own, all that mattered was that I was here, at this moment, so I certainly didn't have time to stop at the hospital.

I felt beside myself, moving lethargically, like I was in slow motion. I had even scared myself earlier, and while I felt more like the me I was used to, the high of the rage mixed with adrenaline and my inexplicable hysteria had severely shaken me. The come-down was going to be just as intense, I already knew. I didn't want to think about, or face, what I had become earlier. I couldn't even begin to piece it together, not now. I moved to instinctively rub my face and immediately winced when my hand brushed passed my open cut. I listlessly stared at my hand, now smeared with blood.

The bright red flashing in the midst of my daze seemed to form a crack in the trance I was stuck in. I looked back at the bar, seeing Bella again. Bella. I was going to scare Bella the second she saw me.

I turned on my battery and pressed the light switch, squinting from the sudden brightness. I flipped down my visor and looked at myself in the mirror. I was absolutely terrifying. There was dry and fresh blood all over my face and down my neck, seeping into my shirt. My eye was almost completely swollen shut, and the purple bruises already forming everywhere were distorting my appearance further. What, exactly, had I planned on telling her? Did I have to lie to her? What would she do if I told her the truth? I looked down at the bloody, cracked skin on my knuckles. I couldn't lie to her, I didn't want to lie to her. She would have to know what happened. But the where and why were still up for debate. I still had time to decide my course of action regarding how much truth I was going to share, so instead, I tried to concentrate on at least attempting to make myself somewhat less scary.

I got out of the car, every movement revealing a new source of pain. I opened the back door, looking for a shirt I knew I'd thrown back there after some asinine meeting with Carlisle. I found it, along with a bottle of water tucked into the back seat. I pulled my shirt over my head, biting my lip to suppress the desire to yell out in anguish. I grabbed the water, swigging it in my mouth and spitting it out. Everything stung. I did it again, making sure I got all of it. I poured some of it down my face, wishing I didn't have to do what I was going to do anyway. I grabbed my blood-stained shirt and used it to rub my face clean, doing my best to ignore the pain. The cut on my head was finally starting to clot, though nothing else seemed to be getting better, only worse. I put on the clean shirt, buttoning it up slowly, trying to breathe normally, trying not to collapse.

I got back in the car, hating every movement I had to make, but glad that the final result would mean I could sit down again. I looked in the mirror again, hoping for the best. Still terrifying, less bloody. I ran my hand through my hair in an attempt to aid the matter. It didn't do much, but at the very least, I didn't look as horrible as I felt anymore.

I looked at the clock on my dashboard, and then back at the bar. The time was right, Bella was closing up. I hadn't realised all the hours that had passed, couldn't remember how long I'd been sitting here. My head pounded ferociously as I tried to take a deep breath but failed, only causing myself to cough, more pain, only more.

I turned on the ignition and moved the car so I was right in front of Swan's. I regretted earlier telling Bella not to come outside until she saw me there. Not only did this mean I'd have to drag myself out of the car again, it also meant that it'd be easier for her to be able to see what I looked like, and I really didn't want her to see this. Still, I was going to be there. I pulled myself out of the car, feeling dizzy. I slowly walked around the front, using the hood to steady myself. I carefully leaned against the side door, directly in front of the entrance to the bar, glad I had the car to prop me up.

I saw the lights inside go off, and I was thankful for that. I could see Bella making her way to the door, squinting out, searching for me. As she got closer, I saw a smile spread across her face when she recognised my form. I wanted to smile, too, just at the sight of her, but my body wasn't allowing it.

"Hi," she called out as she turned to lock the door behind her.

"Hi," I said, my voice coming out hoarsely. It was the first time I'd spoken since Jacob. I'd forgotten about that, I'd missed that detail. All the laughing, the yelling. I barely had a voice left, my now burning throat confirming this.

I put my head down as she came towards me, not wanting to see her face fall when she finally looked at me.

She began walking causally towards me, about to close the short distance between us. "So, tonight was-" She stopped short.

Here it comes. I closed my eyes.

"Edward?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know what I could possibly say.

"Edward?" She repeated, her voice shaking. "What happened to you? Look at me," she pleaded.

I was frozen. The sound of her voice was ripping me apart.

She reached her hand out, slowly, very carefully, pushing up my chin. "Please look at-" She stopped herself again when she saw my face.

If I thought I was in pain before, it was nothing compared to the way I felt now. The look on her face, the worry, the way her eyes suddenly became clouded with tears I knew she wasn't going to let escape; I was quite certain I could actually feel my heart being violently shredded apart.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Why are you- what- I..." Bella raised her hands to touch me, but left them in mid-air when she realised she probably shouldn't. I couldn't take much more of this.

Wanting to be closer to her, I pushed myself off the car, forgetting that I was relying on it heavily to remain standing. I stumbled slightly but caught myself quickly as I reached for the car again.

I was out of breath already. "Let me take you home. Please. I'll explain later, I just-"

"I'm driving," Bella said, now less shaken, but seeming to understand that I could not be here anymore.

She moved past me and pulled open the door. She stopped to look at me, and then waited for me to get in, watching me carefully. I hated this, every second of it. I wanted her to stop watching, to stop knowing everything I knew she already figured out. She closed the door for me and ran around the car, jumping in and taking it out of park, all within seconds. We were already moving before I could settle against the seat, looking for a position that didn't hurt.

I turned to watch her, her hands clenching the wheel. I watched as a tear rolled silently down her cheek. She wiped it away nonchalantly, making sure not to look at me. She bit her lip harshly.

"Please tell me what happened," she said.

"I will, I promise. But please, not now," I begged. I couldn't remember a time when I'd hated myself more.

"I'm driving to my place. You're not driving home, you're staying," she said sternly. I thought about protesting but couldn't find the strength. I said nothing.

Bella began tapping the wheel nervously with her fingers. She was driving fast, very fast. Before I could gather the energy required to ask her to slow down, she was pulling into her lot. Never had I felt so physically and emotionally exhausted. Everything was blurring and melding into black.

She parked the car and turned to me. "You have to tell me. You have to," she said.

"Bella, I..." I trailed off, giving up easily.

She sighed. "If this has anything to do with me, in any way, in any way at all, you have to tell me," she demanded.

I tried to move and winced, hoping she didn't see. I didn't know how to get out of this, so I gave up entirely. "Jacob. I... we had a fight. I'm-"

Bella slammed her hand down on the wheel, so I stopped. "So it's because of me. Look at you. You can't even... Did you go looking for him?" Her voice was starting to rise, a mix of anger and sadness, worry cracking through every word.

She didn't let me answer. "I _don't_ need to be protected. I_ don't _need you to do this to yourself. Don't you _get_ it? This hurts me more than anything else!" Now she only sounded angry, though I wasn't sure exactly what she meant. Now visibly upset, she stormed out of the car, slamming the door and running up the steps.

I groaned and pulled myself out, running after her. My body immediately protested, every inch of me screaming. I didn't care. I didn't care until I was halfway up the stairs and the pain in my chest started to become unbearable, not until I started to feel so dizzy that I wasn't sure of which direction I was going, no, not until I made it to the top, gasping for air and hating every breath that crawled down my raw throat.

"Bella," I rasped, catching up with her at her door, holding my chest, trying to breathe. She turned, her eyes widening when she really looked at me.

I reached for the wall but it wasn't where I thought it was. I fell to my knees, gasping, still trying to steady myself. I looked up at her face, tears now streaming down her cheeks. My vision was starting to tunnel, black edges blurring into her image. I could feel her in front of me, she was talking frantically, but I wasn't sure of what she was saying. I could feel her arms wrapping around me, trying to pull me up. Strangely, nothing hurt anymore. It seemed like we were walking, like she was pulling me inside. My legs felt like lead, and I thought about Bella trying to carry my weight, her small frame supporting me. When did she put my arm around her shoulder? I tried to pull it off, to walk on my own, but I felt her grab it, still dragging me as I walked clumsily.

I felt her pushing me down, pushing me onto what must have been her bed. The darkness was starting to take over, the comfort of the bed taking me away. I let it come, finally feeling my chest rise and fall, finally, air. I breathed in her scent slowly, closing my eyes, making sure her face was the last thing I saw.

**Author's Note:** I don't know why this chapter is so long, but I got kind of carried away. Lots of answers coming up as everything starts to piece together. I swear, I'm going somewhere with this. I'm thinking another chapter will likely be up some time this week. Thanks, if you're still reading!


	16. My Body Is A Cage

**Chapter 16: My Body Is A Cage  
**

_Edward:_

The moment I opened my eyes, everything began to hurt. Despite how disoriented I felt, I seemed to know exactly where I was. It was probably the smell, the sweet scent that just seemed to surround Bella wherever she was. I tried to breathe it in and was swiftly reminded by the pain in my chest that nothing was as it should be. This was not the way I was ever supposed to wake up after spending the night in Bella's bed, and it was certainly not how I wanted my _first_ night in her bed to go.

I slowly rolled onto my back, trying to prepare myself for what it would take to get up. I was surprised to see Bella next to me, sitting crossed-legged on the bed, still wearing the same thing from last night, watching me carefully. I wasn't sure where I'd expected her to be, but this wasn't it.

I closed my eyes again and attempted to take a preparatory breath. It went better than I'd expected, so I looked back at her. I couldn't read the expression on her face, she looked exhausted but relieved. I couldn't tell if she was still angry with me, I couldn't remember exactly where the night had ended, but I knew it hadn't started well.

She bit her lip. "Can you breathe?" She asked.

I searched her face and tried to nod. "I don't remember..." I started, but trailed off quietly, considering the severity of her question.

"I figured you wouldn't," she said. Her tone was completely flat. "You couldn't breathe last night. You practically collapsed. I brought you in here and I was going to call an ambulance but you kept saying no, no hospitals, over and over. Normally, I wouldn't have listened to you, but since I don't know what happened, I was afraid that someone could be looking for you, that you'd be in trouble. I thought maybe that was why. Anyway, I just sat here, watching you breathe, making sure you could breathe. I decided if you stopped, then I'd call," she said, playing with her hair absently.

My heart sank. "You stayed up all night?" I asked, my voice still a little hoarse.

"Why can't you breathe properly, Edward?" Bella asked, ignoring my question.

I didn't answer right away. I never did end up figuring out which parts I was going to tell her about, which things I wanted to omit. For the moment, all I could do was try to think of an answer for right now, but every single one led right back to the need for only more answers.

Bella was staring at me, unimpressed. "I was going to find out for myself last night, but I was afraid to wake you. I guess it doesn't matter now," she said, crawling forward and leaning over me. She started to unbutton my shirt precariously, trying not to hurt me. Annoyed by how intuitive she was, I reached for her hand to stop her but the sudden movement made me wince, and I suppressed a groan. This, of course, didn't help matters any, and she began to work faster.

She pulled open my shirt, revealing my still heaving chest, though luckily, the fabric still concealed what she was looking for. Not easily fooled, after inspecting what she could see, she pulled open my shirt further. After hearing her gasp, I could only assume what she saw. Not wanting to look her in the eye, I pushed myself up a little, looking down to see the damage. The bruises that spanned all across my ribcage were black, blue, and immense. I didn't know how far they went around my back, but I figured I'd cracked at least three or four ribs. Though I knew that they would heal on their own, at the sight of it, even I considered going to the hospital. I tried to prop myself up further, trying to prepare for everything that was about to come. The act only aided in helping my shirt slide off my shoulder, revealing more bruises and various small cuts from skidding against the pavement. I hadn't even realised that was there.

Bella vacillated between staring at me and then my injuries, back and forth, with her mouth agape. After a moment of this, she got up and left the room. I wanted to follow her, but I needed to come to terms with the idea of standing up before I could actually bring myself to do it. Moments later, thankfully, she returned. She was holding an ice pack and a bowl, a cloth hanging over her arm. She set the bowl, which was filled with water, down on the night table next to me and then crawled back onto the bed.

She eyed me briefly and then placed the ice pack against my ribs, resting it on the bed. I jumped at the pain and cold blending together. She leaned across me, reaching for the cloth and dipping it in the water. She inched closer to me, inspecting my face. She began dabbing away the blood from the cut on my head, carefully wiping around it. The blood I could see on the cloth suggested it had started bleeding again at some point. I watched her as she furrowed her brow, working diligently.

"I was going to do this last night, too, but I didn't want to leave the room, just in case," she said casually, never looking me in the eye.

"You can never do this to me again," she continued, wiping a little harder now, making me jump again. "Sorry," she said. "But not really," she added, mumbling.

I grabbed her hand from my face and held it, ignoring the pain. She finally looked at me, and I could see every little bit of her facade melting away. Her eyes softened, her expression relaxing, her face changing completely. "I was really scared," she whispered. "I just want to hug you and hold on to you and I can't even do that," said said, her voice barely audible, diverting her eyes.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, doing my best to act like it didn't hurt.

"No, Edward-"

"Please. This will make me feel better, this is for me," I said, entirely telling the truth. Staring at me, she still looked hesitant.

"Come here," I said.

Sighing, she carefully crawled into my lap, sitting between my legs. I rested my arms around her, pulling her against my chest.

"This doesn't hurt," I whispered, looking down at her.

Worry was still playing all over her features, and I hated to only add more to it, but it was time to tell the truth.

"I'm sorry this happened, that you had to stay up all night, that you have to put up with this. I'm sorry I have to tell you this." I sighed. Bella remained silent, so I continued.

"I went to Carlisle's last night. I wasn't looking for Jacob. Honestly, I wanted to, but I wasn't. I saw him coming out of Carlisle's house," I paused when she looked up at me, extremely confused.

"I don't know what he was doing there," I said, answering the question I knew she wanted to ask. "I just... I lost it when I saw him. I thought about you, and what he's done to you, and I lost it. But it wasn't _because _of you. It wasn't your fault, I made the choice," I said, trying to make sure she didn't try take on more blame, something I'd learned she was prone to doing.

She sighed quietly, her exhaustion, I knew, the only thing keeping her silent.

"Bella, I have to tell you, I really do think, in his own sick way, that he's pretty much in love with you," I said begrudgingly.

I knew that not even just how tired she really was could hold her back on this one. She pulled her head back to look at me. "What?"

"He didn't come out and say it. But it all seemed really clear to me, for some reason. Everything he's done, to even consider going to Carlisle, obviously it's pretty huge," I added, trying to tip toe around what I really wanted to say.

"I don't believe that," she said, laying her head back down.

"I do. Completely. I guess I can't blame him," I said, and then, as I realised exactly what I'd said, I quickly continued. "He's probably felt that way for a long time. It doesn't make anything he's done excusable, but it is a reason. And I know I'm not right for you, that can only make it worse for him," I finished, hoping she was too tired to really notice what I had said earlier.

"You're right for me," Bella groaned.

While I was glad that she seemed to pass over what I was worried about, I still didn't want to have this argument anymore than she did, so I steered the subject back to Jacob. "It's starting to make sense," I said, thinking aloud.

She was keeping oddly quiet, so I pressed forward. "It all makes sense. Him being at the bar, the reason Carlisle knew where to look for us on the dock that night, all of it..." I trailed off, thinking over it in my head.

"Alice said that he asked her a bunch of questions, after that night, the night we met," she said lazily.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like what was going on between us, stuff like that. Alice told him it was nothing. At the time, she was telling the truth," she said, yawning. "I'm so tired," she whispered.

"I know," I said.

She looked up at me. "Still, I think Jacob has other reasons for whatever he's doing. Money, or, maybe to get back at me, it could be anything," she said, yawning again. "I'm too tired to think about this," she added. Taking a breath, she gazed at me thoughtfully before she precariously brought her face towards mine. In a painfully slow manner, she placed her her lips on my mouth, her kiss softer and more careful than anything I was capable of imagining.

Wanting her as voraciously as I did, I could only act with that same amount of desire fueling my response, and all in spite of myself. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, kissing her fully, wanting to feel her, regardless of the pain I knew she was trying to avoid causing me. That pain, however, had no interest in appeasing me, in allowing me this one thing. I boldly ignored it, and while I could still feel her holding back, her body had become ridged as her lips moved with mine and her quickened heart beat strongly against my chest.

The ache in my jaw refused to back down, but as Bella's tongue ran against my own, I hoped that I wouldn't be backing down either. I bit her lip gently, trying to find air or endurance, and then finally, reason. The pain was winning and logic was forcing its way through my trance of unbridled longing. I made a fist around her hair, trying to hold on.

A telling groan of discomfort involuntarily escaped me, but when Bella pulled back, eyeing me worriedly, I pushed my mouth back against hers; anything not to see that look on her face again. Astute as she was, I could feel her mouth moving with more care, but despite her efforts, another groan left me, and this time, I pulled back.

"I can't," I admitted, my voice marred by defeat.

In seconds, Bella's face creased with worry once again, then melting into one of the saddest expressions I'd seen her wear yet. And then she forced out a smile, closing her eyes and resting her head back on my chest with extreme care.

I wanted to say something, anything, I wanted to scream; I wanted to find a way to hate myself more than I already did, but it would not come. I could feel my heart giving out on me, sinking down into the rest of the darkness I knew was filling me. All I could do now was focus on what I had right in front of me, in my arms.

I sighed and began rubbing her back slowly, forcing every breath I took to mirror the rhythm of hers. I sank my teeth into my lip, into all of my frustration, wondering if I had the courage to ask what I wanted to ask. Maybe it wasn't the courage required so much as the right, but I had to know. I had to find some reason behind the way I felt when she touched me, the way I was barely willing to stop despite the pain it brought me. I almost wanted to laugh at the way that very thing defined Bella and I, much further than the physical pain I was in now. Still, the question was burning my tongue, begging to be released. Asking Bella herself was certainly the only way I'd get an answer, and it would probably continue to bother me just as vigorously until I knew what it meant.

I swallowed hard, glad she couldn't see me almost recoil from the pain of the action.

"Bella," I whispered. "Jacob said that you don't have it in you, to, to... love. What did he mean?" I closed my eyes and waited, choosing to reform my question at the last second, careful not to put "falling" and "love" in the same sentence, whatever that meant.

Silence. I opened my eyes, now worried about the answer I was going to get, that I'd completely terrified her. Of course she'd picked up on what had slipped out earlier, of course she did. Her intelligence had never been debatable, and past that, she seemed to be able to read me like a book without hesitation.

I looked down at her, afraid of what I'd see, the look on her face, or worse, no look at all. Her eyes were closed, her face calm and serene. Her breathing was emphatic, slowly making her chest rise and fall against me.

"Bella?" I whispered.

Asleep. Thank god, she was asleep.

******

I couldn't remember falling asleep, but I assumed it had been a while as I opened my eyes to Bella's darkened room. Though I remained in the exact position I'd last found myself in, Bella was gone. I glanced at the glowing red numbers that, while my eyes still adjusted, seemed to be floating above her night table. The time suggested that the night had arrived once again, simply blurring every recent event into one indecipherable memory.

Wondering where she'd went, I pulled myself up, swinging my legs over the side of her bed and giving myself a minute to prepare. My body was stiff, still well-beyond sore and throbbing in places I didn't even remembering hurting. Still, I felt relaxed, no longer exhausted or trapped in the haze of the prior evening. I stood slowly, allowing myself to become familiar with the upright position before I started heading towards her living room.

I flicked on the light on the way, squinting my eyes as they adjusted. I made a double-take and stopped where I was as I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. My appearance was a sickly reminder of what I'd done, not that I felt any need to have my memory jogged. I remembered it all now, every bit of it, appalling in its clarity.

The bruises on my face were now in full swing, and though I could now open my eye, the black and purple it was surrounded by gave me a sallow appearance. The cut on my head had seemed to finally stop bleeding, the dark and clotted blood sealing it all in. Thankful I wouldn't need stitches, I began to slowly button up my shirt, taking care not to look at my chest at all, not remotely interested in how bad it really looked. I ran a hand through my hair with no enthusiasm, unable to find the sense in trying to make myself presentable.

Wondering again about Bella, I shook my head and turned my back on my reflection, making my way down the hall. I could see a small glow of light coming from the direction I was headed, and my spirits lifted as I began to think of her.

As I turned the corner, I was surprised to see Alice look up at me from the couch. The disappointment I felt as my shoulders sagged was not directed at her, but as she slowly closed the book she had been holding and glared at me silently, I assumed that disappointment was not an adequate enough term to describe what she felt towards me. Still, I liked Alice, and I knew that any resentment she had for me now was entirely acceptable and only came from her care for Bella, something which I was sure we could agree upon.

"Hi, Alice," I mumbled.

She examined my face quietly, not concealing her surprise at my battered appearance all that well. She waved her hand out, motioning for me to sit down.

I moved carefully, not sure why I was bothering to attempt to hide my pain, as it was, quite literally, all over my face. I sat down, turning to her and opening my mouth to speak.

She spoke before I did, answering my question before I could ask. "Bella's not here," she said.

I nodded. "Where...?" I trailed off as Alice sighed, continuing to speak without giving my question much thought.

"Imagine my surprise when I came over here, thinking I could apologise, but instead finding Bella in the state she was in," she said, unimpressed.

I wondered what state that was, what was wrong with Bella, past what I already knew. I figured my best chance was to listen to what Alice had to say, and then I could go find her. I sensed that, despite whatever I could say, Alice was going to keep talking, so I waited.

"No, really, imagine," she said dryly. "I was going to _apologise_ for _worrying _about her, for wanting to tell Charlie, for wanting to _help. _Does that sound right to you?"

I shook my head, unsure of whether or not her question was rhetorical.

"Instead, she was more scared than when I last saw her, more exhausted, more worried, more everything," Alice sighed. "She told me what happened, and looking at you, I don't blame her for freaking out," she said.

"I don't-"

"No, Edward, listen. I like you, I do. Bella asked me to be here when you woke up, but I'll be honest, the only reason I agreed is because she said she was going to go talk to Charlie, which is the best thing she could do- apart from dumping you," she finished.

"I know," I said quietly, again, defeated.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Like I said, I do like you, and I know how much Bella does, too. In any other universe, you'd be good for her, I really think that. But don't you think this is too much? I'm not trying to meddle, I'm really just trying to look out for my friend. If you really love her, which I'm going to guess you do, then isn't the best thing to let her go?"

I stared at her with my mouth open, nowhere near capable of knowing how to begin. "I can't," I muttered.

"I thought so," Alice said, and then, strangely, smiled almost knowingly.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, now reaching for any answer I could get, anything over my own conclusions.

Alice leaned forward, suddenly intense. "Whatever happens after today, whatever happens with Charlie, you still need to be there. This Jacob thing... I _know_ Jacob. You _need_ to be there," she stressed.

I wasn't sure what she meant, or why she wasn't elaborating. Was she simply telling me I needed to be around to keep Jacob away from Bella, or was she telling me more than that?

"Alice, I don't-"

"He won't stop, Edward. He won't," she said. "The appearances he keeps up around his family, around Charlie, it's all just so he can get closer to Bella again. It's far worse than she's told you, far worse than anyone knows."


End file.
